


Corruption

by house_of_lantis



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Language, M/M, Rimming, bottom!Kris and topping-from-the-bottom!Adam), dubcon-ish for inebriated and rough sexytimes with a bit of bondage and dominance (toppy!Adam, homophobic attitude and language, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 10:05:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 38,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3443174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/house_of_lantis/pseuds/house_of_lantis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kris Allen made a name for himself when he was just a junior reporter in Little Rock, hitting the national scene and getting recruited to the big leagues as a city reporter for The Washington Post in Washington, D.C. – if only he could just get off writing the relationship advice column! Chasing down a lead on real estate corruption, Kris pursues the mysterious and morally ambiguous power player Adam Lambert, who may be the one behind the city’s shady real estate dealings. As he is drawn into Adam’s glamorous and seedy world of wealth, sex, night clubs, and political corruption, he gets closer to the truth and to Adam, but Kris has to make a choice: work or play? Kris could break one of the biggest stories in the city and see his name on the front page, but that would mean losing Adam.</p>
<p>Warnings: Language, homophobic attitude and language, mild violence, rimming, dubcon-ish for inebriated and rough sexytimes with a bit of bondage and dominance (toppy!Adam, bottom!Kris and topping-from-the-bottom!Adam).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corruption

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes: Very loosely based on the Japanese yaoi manga “You’re My Love Prize in Viewfinder” and Netflix’s “House of Cards” for inspiration. Many thanks to the ladies of the KM mailing list for all the feedback and cheering during the writing of this fic!
> 
> Special thanks to faerielissa for beating the story into shape! This story would’ve been a dull, one-dimensional non-con mess without her help.
> 
> Special thanks to ally4/imahokie1 for jumping in last minute to beta the rest of the story. Thanks for all of your awesome support always!
> 
> Special thanks to solarbaby614 for her beautiful artwork to go along with this story, originally created for Kradam Big Bang 2012 (for the fic that I didn’t finish on time; it’s taken me over 2 years to finish it OMG)! The visuals are perfect – a perfect lure.

[ ](http://s769.photobucket.com/user/house_of_lantis/media/corruption.png.html)

 

 

 

**The Washington Post**

**1150 15 th Street**

**Washington, D.C.**

**Tuesday, June 4**

 

 

“Late! I am _so_ late!” Kris muttered to himself, anxiously tapping his foot as the elevator rose.

 

Admittedly, this was not the first time he was late. He was already on probation for five months for being perpetually late, he knew he was on thin ice if he kept coming in late – but honestly, what could be worse than having to write the obituary column? Kris shook the thoughts from his head; he really didn’t want to know. Randy could be a real hard ass when he wanted to be and Kris hated being on the man’s shit list. He didn’t even have a good excuse because he lived just 20 minutes from the building. He had overslept (again), didn’t bother with a shower (he used a lot of deodorant), and ran through the city streets (missed the bus). It was now 7:52 AM and he had to make his deadline at eight, so he didn’t even stop at Starbucks to get his usual caffeine fix.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

He cautiously eased his head out on the 7th floor and looked around. Grace Linley, their iconic  gatekeeping octogenarian receptionist, raised one perfectly arched silver-blonde eyebrow and grinned as Kris ducked down, looking into Randy’s office to see if he had noticed Kris’s late arrival.

 

“You’re cutting it close, Allen.”

 

“Gracie!” Kris hissed, urgently, coming out of the elevator and ducking down in front of her desk. “Can you see?”

 

The handsome older woman turned and peered into Randy’s office, then waved Kris into the bullpen. “He’s on the phone...Go! Now!”

 

“Thanks, Gracie!” He whispered, running down the maze like aisles between the low-walled cubicles towards his desk at the other side of the long, open room, right past Randy’s wall-of-glass office.

 

Kris stopped at Melissa’s desk to take a breath, pushing up his plastic glass frames up his nose bridge. He grinned at her as she chewed on the end of her pen, her lips curving into a knowing smirk.

 

“Hey, Mellie, how you doing this morning? That’s a pretty shirt, did you—“  

 

_“Kris!”_

 

He turned to see Allison standing by his desk, tapping the invisible watch on her wrist with her finger, and he waved his hand for her to get down because standing right by his empty cubicle wasn’t going to be conspicuous, was she out to get him or what?

 

“Shhhh! Alli!”

 

“Five minutes, kiddo,” Melissa told him, teeth clenching the end of the pen. She looked over into Randy’s office to see him with his back turned and waved her fingers for Kris to keep moving. “Just stay down.”

 

He dropped down and poked his head up over the edge of another cubicle wall to see Randy turning around to face the bullpen, so he ducked and rolled, crawling quickly toward his cubicle, his messenger bag dragging on the carpeted floor beside him. He was almost home free when the bag split open and two rubber band bound steno pads, a dozen pens, and handfuls of Big Red gum wrappers spilled onto the floor.

 

“Oh crap. Man down,” he muttered, leaving behind the lost objects, a worthy sacrifice, as he crashed onto the floor his cube, surrounded by the chuckles of his coworkers.

 

He looked up the pair of petite black boots in front of him to see Allison smirking down at him.

 

“Dude! You’ve only got less than five minutes until your deadline!”

 

Kris climbed into his desk chair and slid in close to the dual monitors as she waved the pages in her hand. “I’m on it, I’m on it.”

 

“Hurry up!”  

 

He was grateful that she had already booted up his computer (he’d worry about how she knew his username and password later) and the website interface was open, the cursor blinking and mocking him for his lateness.

 

“Coffee. Coffee, _please_.” Kris snatched the markups from her, wincing at the sea of red edit marks. Pushing up his glasses, he peered at his computer screen, hurriedly making all the corrections.

 

Allison shoved folders and papers around his desk and sat down on top of them, holding the Starbucks paper cup away from him, shaking her head. “Nuh-uh! You’ll get it once you get your write ups posted.”

 

Kris groaned, typing at what seemed like the speed of light. He just hoped it was fast enough. “Time?”

 

“Three minutes.” She said, blowing a big bubble with her gum. “So you know that guy I’ve been seeing, Tommy. He played at the Birchmere last night and they were so good. He’s getting better, but vocally, I think he’s not quite there yet. He’s getting this growly thing going when he sings so it’s kind of sexy and squeaky at the same time. You know what, Kris, people suck. Especially fan girls. I swear that if they try to maul him after his shows, I’m going to seriously kick their collective asses and—“

 

“How did you even get into the Birchmere? Isn’t that a 21 and older club? You’re nineteen years old!”

 

She kicked his hip. “Excuse me, I’m twenty! And besides, Tommy got me in, perks of being the girlfriend of the lead singer and—“

 

“Alli!” Kris couldn’t listen to all that right now, not when he had a deadline hanging over his head like a guillotine. He made a helpless anxious noise in the back of his throat, sweat breaking out on his forehead. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…these are so depressing…oh my god, almost done…yes!”

 

He clicked the submit button and uploaded the latest four obituaries, tapping his toes as he urged the website on under his breath.

 

“Go, go, go, post already!”

 

The page refreshed and Kris let out a noisy sigh of relief as he made deadline with one minute to spare. Allison rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. He leaned back in his chair and grinned, holding out both hands for his prize. “Gimme!”

 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” Allison handed over the cup. Kris grabbed the Starbucks venti half espresso dark roast from her and drank greedily, uncaring that the coffee was lukewarm. He took a few deep gulps and sighed.

 

“ _Ahhhhhh_ …thank you. This is why you’re my favorite intern and why I like you the best.”

 

“You owe me money.”

 

Kris couldn’t be bothered to stop drinking his coffee; he tossed his wallet to her and hummed to himself as the caffeine flooded his mouth and warmed his throat. Allison rifled through his bills and pulled out a twenty with a wide smile.

 

“Hey!”

 

She snorted and dangled her legs over the edge of his desk, shoving the bill into her pocket. “You owe me for last week. And let’s not forget that in addition to bringing you Starbucks, I fix all your mistakes and cover for you when you’re late.”

 

Kris relented with a nod and lifted his cup in acknowledgement. “Yes, fine.”

 

He leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath, turning back and forth on the swivel, concentrating on the caffeine flowing into his body as Allison Iraheta resumed talking about her new boyfriend – Kris wasn’t all that sure about her dating a musician and used his access to look up everything he could on Tommy Joe Ratliff, he was seriously considering talking to his friend, Detective Anoop DeSai at the Metropolitan Police Department, to do a proper background check on Tommy – and Kris watched the way that Allison tossed her head of thick black hair as she laughed about something Tommy said, and Kris sank into the rhythm of her husky voice as he looked around the bullpen.

 

When he started working at _The Post_ two years ago, he felt like a country bumpkin coming to the big city. When he was in college, he traveled throughout Africa and Asia volunteering for Habitat for Humanity, building houses and digging ditches, but he had never traveled in the US outside Arkansas. Washington, DC was an amazing city and Kris fell in love with her at his first visit; the city was urbane and modern, but settled in the middle of living history. He knew that it would take his entire lifetime to tell the city’s stories to the world.

 

All around him, there was the constant sound of multiple conversations, phones ringing, people hurrying from the bullpen to the newsroom to the research library, desks were messy with monitors, papers, books, folders, and about a hundred cubicles lined the wide open floor space, flat panel TVs hung on the walls, and fingers banging away on keyboards, reporters breaking their stories.

 

“…so I said that Tommy should come home with me for Thanksgiving and—“

 

“Arkansas!”

 

Kris ducked down in his chair, staring up at Allison with wide eyes.

 

“A minute of your time, please!” Randy shouted from his office doorway.

 

“Be right there, boss!” Kris called back, standing up and pulling off his messenger bag, then setting it on the floor. He made a face and took a deep breath. “Wish me luck.”

 

“If you get fired, can I have your office supplies?” Allison asked sweetly.

 

“Thanks for the moral support,” Kris grumbled as he left his cubicle, feeling like dead man walking. He ran his hand through his hair and shook his head when one of his coworkers hummed a funeral march that sounded suspiciously like the Darth Vader theme as Kris walked down the aisle between the cubicles toward Randy’s glass-walled office. He tapped his knuckles against the glass door and Randy waved him inside to sit in one of the two chairs facing his desk.

 

“Hey, Randy, what’s up?” Kris sat in the chair on the left and ran his sweaty palms on his legs.

 

“So how many late days is that, Allen? Being on probation hasn’t seemed to help you get here on time.”

 

Randall Darius Jackson raised his eyebrow and stared at him. He was a big man who wore colorful ties and matching suspenders. He was clean cut, conservative, and kept his private beliefs close to his vest; he had that same tough-guy-no-nonsense attitude that seemed to run through the veins of every newspaper editor Kris had ever worked for.  

 

“Randy, I’m sorry. I really will work on getting to the office on time. I swear. I promise. Please don’t fire me.”

 

A corner of Randy’s mouth twitched and Kris knew he was in the clear. _This time_. “I’m not going to fire you, Kris.”

 

“Thank you, sir.” Kris breathed, relief spreading through him.

 

“But I will comment on your lack of professionalism.”

 

Kris grimaced. “I understand. I totally deserved that.”

 

He really hated letting the big man down. In college, Kris had avidly followed Randy’s career; his rise up the ranks. Randy was an iconic figure in the newspaper business, having started with _The Post_ as a typesetter when he was sixteen and then devoted the next 40 years to it where he made his way up to the coveted position of Editor-in-Chief, surviving through an era of racial discrimination, six different owners, and enough political backstabbing to rival the marbled halls of Congress.

 

“Do you remember your first interview here?”

 

“Of course—“

 

“You told me that cockamamie story about watching the movie ‘All the President’s Men’ when you were in college and how it changed your life.”

 

He didn’t think it was ‘cockamamie,’ but he bit his tongue. “Yes, sir.”

 

“Do you know how many people have told me that same story? Not to mention the fact that I really hate that movie. Woodward and Bernstein were a pair of egomaniacal competitive know-it-alls who caught a lucky break – kind of reminds me of you.”

 

“Come on, Randy, I’m not an egomaniacal know-it-all.”

 

“Be that as it may, I hired you because you broke the biggest story in Little Rock when you were just a junior reporter for some no name city paper. You took a no-news story about building permits and traced the corruption all the way to the Governor’s Mansion. _That_ was national news. You took down a Governor, Allen.”

 

“Well, it was his brother-in-law—“

 

“When are you going to quit playing around and bring me a story like that? You’re not a junior reporter anymore; you put in your time and now you’re at _The Post_ , you’re in the big leagues, and I’m waiting for you to show up to the game and hit another one out of the park.”

 

Kris pushed up his glasses with his fingers. “I’m working on it, sir.”

 

Randy regarded him for a long moment, leaning in his swivel chair and turning slightly. He folded his hands on his chest and showed his famous shark grin – all perfect teeth and intense dark eyes. Kris’s stomach pitched all over again. He didn’t like the look on Randy’s face; it always spelled trouble for Kris.

 

“Caroline’s going on maternity leave for three months so you’re going to take over her column.”

 

Kris opened his mouth and snapped it shut. “The relationship advice column?”

 

“Do you want off the obits?”

 

“Yes, of course I do but—“

 

“Last I recall, you’re serving a five-month probation, Allen, so I’ll let it be your choice. You can finish out the last three months on obits or you can take over for Caroline.”

 

Kris sat back in the chair and let out a deep breath. “I’ll stay on the obits.”

 

“You’re covering for Caroline.”  

 

“But you just said I had a choice.”

 

Randy grinned. “That was when I thought you’d make the right one.”  

 

“I can’t write about love and give relationship advice. Let me try to write something a little more newsworthy. I know I can do it, if I can just get a lead.”

 

Randy stopped turning in his chair and placed his hands on top of his desk, leaning forward to look into Kris’s eyes. Beneath Randy’s gruff demeanor was the heart of a true newspaper man, always seeking the truth – _the story_ – and Kris knew in his heart that he was cut from the same cloth.

 

“I know I can bring you a good story, Randy.” Kris straightened in his seat, trying his best to look like a professional, hard-hitting journalist.

 

“I’ll tell you what, you bring me an above the fold story and I’ll run it on page one —“

 

“Thank you!  You won’t regret — ”

 

“But that’ll be on your time, Allen. On my time, you’re taking Caroline’s column for the next three months and finishing out your probation and then you’re back on the _Wire_.”

 

Kris took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly before exhaling. He could deal with writing a relationship advice column for three months if it meant that he’d get a chance to write an actual story and prove himself again. “All right, fine.”

 

“Good, be ready to submit your write-ups for tomorrow morning.” Randy said, waving him out of his office. “And, Allen, quit running through the bullpen like you’re doing an obstacle course. You look like an idiot.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Kris slipped out of the office and walked back slowly towards his cubicle, stopping along the way to pick up the trail of notepads, pens, and gum wrappers from the floor. Allison was sitting in his chair, busily editing his obit write-ups for tomorrow on his computer.

 

“You need to spell check, Kris. How do you not know how to spell? Like, did they not teach you how back in Arkansas?”

 

“Don’t disparage Arkansas public education.” Kris tossed his things back into his bag and sat on the edge of his desk. “Seriously, how did you get into my computer?”

 

“Your user name is ‘kallen’ and your password is ‘conway,’ it wasn’t hard to crack.”

 

Kris considered it for a moment and then shrugged it off; he trusted Allison and she always did have his back.

 

She peered up at him, hesitantly. “Did you get fired?”

 

“Not yet. Good news is that I’m off obits.” He groaned, running his hands over his head. “But sometimes I feel like Randy is just pushing for me to quit.”

 

“No way, Randy thinks you’re great. He knows this is your life. Besides, you’re not a loser who’s going to quit just because you get handed the crap jobs. He’s probably just making sure you learn your lesson.” Allison looked up at him. “You learn your lesson yet?”

 

“I’m starting to feel like that there’s more than one.”

 

He watched Allison as she busily corrected his work and wondered what kind of reporter she’d turn out to be; with some polish and experience, she’d probably strike fear into the hearts and minds of every public official in the city. He looked forward to the day when she’d finish school and apply for a full time job at _The Post_. There was no doubt that Randy would give her a shot. Allison was an intern with the editorial group; she had wicked strong technical writing skills and good instincts for putting together a compelling story. All she needed was a hungry, fearless determination to stick to and follow up on a lead, all the way to the end.

 

Allison kept her eyes on the computer screen. “I’m glad you’re not fired. It would suck if you weren’t here anymore. I know you love working at _The Post_.”

 

Kris smiled a little, feeling better. “Thanks, kiddo.”

 

She glanced up at him and gave him a curious look. “But how come you look like you got fired?”

 

Kris crossed his arms over his chest, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “You’re not going to believe this but Randy put me on Caroline’s column while she’s on maternity leave for the next three months to finish out my probation.”

 

 “No way! _You’re_ going to do the advice column on relationships? Oh my god, Kris, so many people are going to break up because of you!”

 

“Hey, thanks for the vote of confidence,” he muttered, making a face at her. “Pass me my coffee.”

 

She raised her eyebrow at him.

 

“Please.”

 

Kris sipped his coffee after Allison handed the cup over, sighing as the caffeine started to kick in. He didn’t know what he’d done before Allison had been around to bring him coffee, even if she did make him pay for it with all her mocking. “Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

He poked at a small hole in his khakis with his pinky fingernail. “I think I can manage the advice column. I mean, I’m sensitive, I’m a people person, I’m open to stuff—“ 

 

“Dude, you just got dumped.” Allison pointed out, her tone and expression completely skeptical. “I’m pretty sure that means you’re not actually qualified to give relationship advice.”

 

“That was two months ago and we’re still friends!”

 

“Only because Katy feels bad for dumping you.”   

 

“Trust me, she _doesn’t_ feel bad for breaking up with me.”

 

Allison made a soft noise, her dark eyes wide and steady as she focused on him.

 

He didn’t dare look at her; he was an idiot for even revealing that much to her when he knew she would latch onto it and dig until she found out what she wanted. She had an uncanny ability to read him and Kris wondered if he really was that easy or if Allison was exceptionally gifted at reading tells. He was never going to play poker with her ever. But whatever it was that she heard in his tone, he hoped she would just leave it.

 

“ _Anyway_ , what do you call your weekly lunch dates? Sounds like a pity date to me.”

 

Kris stroked his chin with his fingertips. “Maybe it is; but it’s the relationship that we have now.”

 

“Maybe it’s time for you to develop a _new_ relationship.” Allison grinned at him. “You hate being alone.”

 

“I’ll date again when I’m ready.”

 

“Uh-huh, I’ve heard that before – oh boy, Bell alert,” Allison whispered, raising her eyebrows and motioning with a nod over Kris’s shoulder.

 

Kris turned his head to see Brad Bell, the associate editor for the men’s fashion blog, sauntering towards him, lips pursed in a gleeful smile on his small, pretty face.

 

He wasn’t sure what to make of Brad’s unusually conservative outfit. He was wearing an orange and brown sweater with tight, dark green denim pants. Kris didn’t normally pay that much attention to what people wore, but the fact that Brad wasn’t wearing something from an offbeat menswear designer was noteworthy.

 

“Nice pants,” he drawled, grinning.  

 

Brad clucked his tongue at Kris. “Darling, I appreciate that you try, but…” He looked pointedly at Kris’s denim jacket, black Henley, and khaki pants, and shook his head. “Why don’t you read my blog? If you would only read my blog, you’d actually learn how to dress.”

 

Kris examined himself. “What, I’m dressed. It’s just clothes.”

 

“Just clothes—whatever. Obviously, I didn’t come to talk about fashion with you. But I did just hear the craziest rumor that one Kristopher Neil Allen is taking over the ‘Ask Caroline’ advice column. Please tell me that was just one of those silly office rumors that got blown out of proportion.” Brad leaned over the top of the low cubicle wall, completely invading Kris’s personal space.  

 

Allison giggled as Kris nudged his elbow against Brad’s shoulder.

 

“How—Randy _just_ reassigned me.”

 

Brad ignored the question, waving one hand. “My, my, my, what did you do to piss him off?”

 

“You know, the usual.”

 

“Well, just think of all the interesting questions you’re going to get.”

 

Kris groaned, knowing what was coming. “Oh no, don’t start.”

 

Brad cleared his throat and put on a falsetto voice. _“Dear Kristopher, my boyfriend wants to back door me all the time, do you think he’s gay? Dear Kristopher, my boyfriend wants to have sex when I’m on my period—“_

 

“Ohmygod Brad!” Allison exclaimed, though she was obviously laughing at Kris’s plight. Maybe she wasn’t his favorite after all.

 

_“—what do you think I should do?”_ Brad got a wicked look in his eyes as he leaned closer, whispering against Kris’s ear. _“Dear Kristopher, if I picked up my first trick in a club, took him home and had wild, animal sex with him and it was my first time having penetrative sex with a guy, should I make him breakfast the morning after?”_

 

Kris blustered, shouldering him away. “Brad, shut up! I’m never telling you anything again.”

 

“Dude, harshly played.” Allison narrowed her eyes at Brad. “Kris is a romantic and I think it was sweet of him to make breakfast for the dude who—“   

 

“Alli! Keep your voice down!”

 

Brad giggled. “Baby, everyone in the bullpen knows. I’m surprised no one’s written a story about it in the office newsletter.”

 

Kris covered his eyes with one hand, mortified. The infamous “office newsletter,” written by an anonymous _Post_ staffer, was the monthly in-house gossip tabloid that had exposed a number of juicy office secrets – Kris had been the subject of the office newsletter twice already and he didn’t want to be in it again.

 

“That’s just a HR lawsuit waiting to happen,” he complained, lips curled in distaste.

 

“Re-read the First Amendment, baby,” Brad teased, his brown eyes sparkling. Not for the first time, Kris wondered if Brad was behind it, but he knew that underneath Brad’s flashiness, he was deeply private and used his sharp humor to deflect and misdirect.

 

Kris buried his face in both hands again. “Just stay out of my love life.”

 

“What love life?” Brad and Allison said at the same time. Brad held his hand up in the air as Allison slapped his palm.

 

“I need to look into the telework option,” Kris muttered, rolling his eyes.

 

Allison leaned against his shoulder affectionately. “Awww, come on, bro, you love us, admit it—ohhh! Brad, do you like Matt’s hat?”

 

“No. But it works for him,” Brad observed, giving Matt a critical look over.

 

“Matt! Hey, Matt! How was your breakfast meeting with the Chairman of the DC Real Estate Commission?” Kris perked up, motioning with his hand for Matt to come over.

 

Matt Giraud took off his hipster fedora and grinned when Brad took it out of his hand, trying it on. Kris watched as Allison got up from his chair and adjusted the tilt of the hat.

 

“That was a frighteningly enthusiastic greeting,” he grinned at Kris and looked at Allison and Brad, raising his eyebrows meaningfully. “Meeting was a dud. He won’t commit to anything on the record, so it’s all just circumstantial bullshit until I can get an official quote. But, I did find out something interesting, so it wasn’t a total waste of time. Two of the four developers recently pulled their bids on the land deal. So I called them to ask for interviews and they both essentially said no, fuck off.”

 

“Why?”

 

“No clue,” Matt said, shrugging his shoulder. “I have a lot of rumor and speculation, but nothing concrete yet.”

 

Kris scratched his chin thoughtfully, wondering why they would refuse interviews. “Who are the two still in the running?”

 

“Lambert Enterprises and Sacred Heart Foundation.”

 

“Isn’t Sacred Heart Foundation a research non-profit? Why would they put in a bid to purchase city land?”

 

“I hope Lambert Enterprises wins,” Allison said, sitting back down in Kris’s chair, wearing Matt’s fedora. “That means that he’s building a new club in town.”

 

“He? Who’s he? Lambert Enterprises?” Kris asked. “I’ve never heard of them before.”

 

Brad leaned his hip against the cubicle wall. “Zero pop culture, Kristopher, I’m so ashamed. How have you not heard of Adam Lambert? He’s hot, gay, rich, and smart. Did I mention that he’s hot? He owns Club Aquarius and five other clubs, three restaurants, and two bars. And that’s just here in the metro area.”

 

Kris wasn’t a total rube, he knew of Club Aquarius. It was the playground for the bold and the beautiful. There was always a line around the block and visiting celebrities like Paris Hilton and Leonardo DiCaprio or Rihanna made it a point to be seen there whenever they came to town.

 

“Where’s the land they’re trying to buy?”

 

“A city block at the corner of 7th and R,” Matt said, pulling the hat off Allison’s head and twirling it around his finger.

 

“Shaw neighborhood. It’s not the best part of the city for a club. It’s mostly residential.”

 

Allison tapped Kris’s leg. “You should ask Katy when you see her tomorrow.”

 

“You’re still doing lunch dates with your ex?” Matt said, raising his eyebrows. “You have to stop punishing yourself, Allen.”

 

Kris scowled and made a face at Matt. “It’s not punishment—“

 

“I bet Katy’s got access to all of those real estate deals,” she said, tapping his knee again and raising her eyebrows. “You should pull out your Southern charm and find out.”

 

“She’s known me for too long and is immune to my charm; besides, it’s too soon to ask her for favors again,” he said, shaking his head. “Maybe when things are better, but not…nah, I can’t do that.”

 

“It’s called…having a conversation, that’s all, two old friends having a conversation about work related things,” Allison told him, turning to see Matt’s curious look. “Katy works for the Mayor’s Executive Branch.”

 

“And they have oversight of the Office of Planning and Economic Development,” Matt said, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at Kris. “Good contact to have; better than mine. You shouldn’t be scared of using your contacts in the city, Allen, if you want to move up in the world.”

 

It wasn’t that Kris was against using every advantage he had, especially since it was true that Katy, a law clerk in the Mayor’s Office, would have access to the development proposals. It was just that things were still too _raw_ between them.

 

Matt placed his hat back on his head at a tilt and grinned at them. “Later, boys and girls.”

 

“Can I help?”

 

He looked at Kris, his lips pursed.

 

“Come on, let me help. I can do some research, do some leg work.”   

 

Matt winked at him. “My relationship with Megan is solid, so I don’t really need any advice from you, _Caroline_.”

 

“That wasn’t the kind of help I was offering!” Kris made a sour face at his back.

 

Brad snorted. “He’s kind of a dick.”

 

He turned to Brad and Allison. “Why can’t I work on stories like that?”

 

Brad chuckled, patting his shoulder. “There, there, don’t make that face, Kristopher, you’re going to get ugly frown lines and will need Botox before you’re thirty. If it’s any consolation, Matt started out writing articles on pet care before Randy moved him to the business and development page. Maybe one day your fairy godmother will let you be a real journalist, too.”

 

Kris scowled and reached out to slap Brad, who danced away too quickly, his eyes bright with amusement. “I am a real journalist, you fashion blogger!”

 

“All of ya’ll, get back to work!” Randy shouted from his office.

 

Brad and Allison scrambled away as Kris sat in his chair, sliding closer to his computer. He checked his internal e-mail and groaned when he noticed all the messages Randy had forwarded from the advice column inbox.

 

He clicked open the first message and read it aloud. “’Dear Caroline, my boyfriend often wants to have sex while I’m on my period’ — _oh my dear god_!”

 

***

 

Kris pulled off his glasses and rubbed his strained eyes, blinking tiredly as his vision adjusted to the glare of his monitor in the dim light of the bullpen. He yawned as he cleaned his glasses with the edge of his shirt, squinting at the clock in the corner of his monitor.  It was after nine pm, time to go home. He’d spent the last hour reading all of Matt’s stories about the Shaw development proposal, not to mention stories about other real estate deals to get up to speed on various city projects in DC. Something was _unusual_ about the whole situation with Lambert Enterprises, Sacred Heart Foundation, and the Shaw neighborhood, but Kris didn’t know enough to manage all the pieces or make them fit together in any meaningful way. Maybe he should just sleep on it.

 

Letting it all percolate in the back of his mind, he gathered his things and locked down his computer, waving to the other reporters still hunched over their keyboards as he left. The summery evening was perfect for walking, the stone and concrete cooling at sundown, and a light breeze flowing between the buildings; Kris tucked his hands into his pockets as he walked along 15th Street. He saw the 24-hour CVS store across the street on the corner and thought it would be a good idea to get some deodorant on his way home, so he waited for the light to turn red and stepped out on the street and trotted across.

 

A black stretch limousine slowed near him and Kris held up his hand as he passed in front of it, jaywalking to the other side of the street. He strolled up the block and went into the CVS, squinting slightly to adjust to the brightness inside. He wandered the aisles and ended up getting a lot more than just deodorant since he was already there, trying to remember when was the last time he bought body wash and maybe a new sink sponge because the one in his kitchen was probably mutating into penicillin by now. Why couldn’t these mega-billion dollar companies invent shower in a spray can or something? Didn’t NASA have a patent for that?

 

Kris smiled to himself and turned, bumping into someone and stumbling backwards. One of his arms flailed helplessly in the air, the other losing his hold on his basket; Kris’s only thought was that he was going to crash into the shelves, knock everything down, and then have to pay for making a huge mess. But there was a strong hand on his arm, an even stronger arm curling behind his lower back, pulling him to his feet. Kris blinked and found himself tucked against a tall, firm, and definitely male body.   

 

“Gotcha,” the man said, breathlessly.  

 

Kris gasped and then let out a low, embarrassed chuckle. “Sorry about that. Good save, thanks, man.”

 

He glanced up to take a better look at the man who kept him from crashing into the shelves, only slightly mortified by his complete klutziness, and his animal brain got a whiff of the man’s musky cologne.

 

_Also, hello, gorgeous_.

 

Dang, Kris never got this lucky, not even in his wildest fantasies.

 

“Are you all right?” The man had a killer smile and Kris couldn’t stop staring at the slick pink of his curved lips. Was that a _freckle_ on his bottom lip?  

 

Kris was sure his mouth was hanging open and that he was blinking stupidly up at the man, who was still holding him up and not in any hurry to release Kris.

 

“I admit I rarely get to play the hero, especially in a CVS,” the man drawled, his voice rich and husky. Kris could easily imagine the sound of his voice in bed telling Kris all the dirty things that he was going to do to him – all the things that he wanted Kris to do.

 

“Oh! _Ohhh_ , man, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” Kris said, adjusting his glasses and looking away, clearing his throat. He tried to put some polite distance between them, but the man tightened his gentle hold.  

 

He leaned closer to Kris, smile widening as his eyes looked over Kris’s face. “If I weren’t, how would you make it up to me?”

 

“Umm…pardon?”

 

Because Kris _really_ wasn’t this lucky. Ever. Not with guys like this.

 

The blue eyes crinkled at the edges in amusement. Kris noticed that they were outlined with black eye make-up, making his eyes look sexy and dangerous. Yes, that was the vibe that Kris got from him: dangerous, sexy… _god, he was so sexy_. He had thick black hair and wore a perfectly fitted black suit and dark purple dress shirt and matching purple necktie. He looked way out of Kris’s league.

 

“Am I?”

 

Kris’s closed his eyes, feeling his ears heat up. “Crap, what part of that did I say out loud?”

 

“What’s your name?” He asked, his hand slipping lower so that his thumb caressed the dip at Kris’s lower back.

 

He felt his lips twitch at the corner, his body warming from Adam’s gentle touch.

 

“I’m Adam,” he offered, smiling genially, like he didn’t know what that stroking, teasing thumb was doing to Kris. “And you are…”  

 

“I—“ Kris laughed softly, turned on and giddy. “Kristopher. Kris Allen.”

 

“You should be more careful, Kristopher Allen. You never know who you’re going to bump into,” Adam murmured, taking his hands away and leaving Kris feeling disappointed, the heat of Adam’s body a memory for later, when Kris was alone and he could replay this moment over and over again.

 

“Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking that NASA probably had a patent for a shower in a spray can and…oh hey, let me pick that up for you.”

 

He reached down to pick up the small box Adam had dropped. XXL Trojans. _Lubricated._ Kris stood up, his eyes slipping to Adam’s crotch, wondering what he had under there that needed a double extra-large condom before he looked away, embarrassed, but not quick enough so that Adam knew exactly where Kris had been staring. Kris felt his temperature rise, his heartbeat heavy in his ears as he handed over the box of condoms.

 

Adam smirked, taking the box. “Thanks.”

 

Kris opened his mouth to say something witty or clever, ask Adam out to dinner or for his number, at the very least, when he saw a handsome blonde-haired man walking towards them. He was tall and built like an athlete, dressed similar to Adam, his dark suit was well-tailored, but he didn’t make the same kind of impression on Kris that Adam had. He carried himself like a fighter, eyes looking over Kris frankly and dismissing him as a non-threat.

 

“Excuse me, Mr. Lambert, Mr. Mills is on the phone for you, there’s a situation at Aquarius,” the man said, handing Adam a cell phone.

 

“Ah, business calls,” Adam said, giving Kris a small smile. “Nice bumping into you, Kristopher Allen.”

 

Lambert? Aquarius? Could he be Adam Lambert _…_ was he _the_ Adam Lambert? Did Kris really bump into and flirt with _Adam Lambert_?

 

“Hey, hey, wait a sec. Are you Adam Lambert of Lambert Enterprises?” Kris asked, studying Adam intently, paying attention to all the little details. He was gorgeous, his suit obviously designer and tailored specifically for his tall, lean frame, his whole appearance speaking of wealth and confidence and _something else_ , something Kris didn’t know how to name, but yeah,  he could definitely be the Adam Lambert that Brad was raving about this morning in the bullpen.

 

Adam smirked, taking the phone from the other man, and then dropped the box of Trojans into Kris’s forgotten basket before picking it up by the handles and handing it to him. “Buy them; they might come in handy.”

 

Kris reached out and grabbed Adam’s arm, ignoring the scary way that the bodyguard moved towards him but stopped in mid-step when Adam held up his hand. “Adam – Mr. Lambert, if I could just have a few minutes of your time about the—“

 

“I’m afraid I don’t have enough time tonight, Kristopher, how about a rain check,” Adam said, turning away and walking quickly down the aisle, cell phone pressed to his ear. “Cale, what is it?”

 

He dug into his messenger bag for his notepad and a pen. “Wait! Where can I call you to set up—“

 

“Club Aquarius,” Adam said, over his shoulder.   

 

Kris watched him for a moment. Oh yeah, he looked good going, broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist and what was probably a perfect ass under those tailored pants and suit coat. Adam turned his head to look back at Kris when he reached the end of the aisle and winked at him like he knew Kris was checking him out, and Kris stood there for a few minutes, working through a number of wild scenarios, admittedly, a few of them were scenarios where Adam held Kris down on a large bed; what if Kris ran after him and what if… _what if_ he did, what would Kris miss out on if he didn’t try, right now, right here? He went with his gut and dropped his basket for the second time and followed Adam out of the store.

 

Adam was approaching the black limo idling at the curb and Kris watched as the bodyguard opened the door for him. That spurred Kris into action, and he took a few quick steps forward.

 

“Mr. Lambert. Mr. Lambert, can I have a minute?”

 

“—tell him I said no and I don’t give a shit who he is,” Adam said sharply into the phone.

 

Kris hurried after him before he got into the black limo. “Mr. Lambert!”

 

Adam stopped and turned, looking at Kris, his eyes curious as he gave a short sigh, hands perched on the top of the opened door. “Persistent, I like that, and I really wish I had more time, baby, but—“

 

“I’m a reporter with _The Washington Post_. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about the land deal in the Shaw neighborhood.” He said, fumbling in his messenger bag for his press credentials. He really should put it in his wallet or something so that—

 

Adam reached out with his free hand and grabbed Kris’s chin with his fingers, raising his face to stare at him for a long moment. Adam grinned, pushing up Kris's glasses higher on the bridge of his nose.

 

“I don’t fuck the press,” Adam said, meeting his eyes. There was a sharp, alert look on his face, the flirtation completely gone now. “I would’ve made an exception for you, but not tonight. Have a good evening, Mr. Allen.”

 

“Wait—“

 

Adam released him and the bodyguard pushed Kris back, his hand firm on Kris’s chest, and then closed the door after Adam stepped into the limo. He gave Kris a threatening glare and Kris sighed, stepping backwards on the sidewalk, watching as the limo pulled back onto the street.

 

So that was Adam Lambert. Something…there was something he had read online, something about a scandal? Kris didn’t remember off the top of his head. He looked up at _The Washington Post_ building and then down the street in the opposite direction, towards home, towards his bed, towards rest. He sighed and then looked up at _The Post_ building again. A journalist listened to his instincts and followed the story. He didn’t need to get home to look up anything; he could just go back to his desk and go through all of his notes.

 

There was a story there, but Kris just didn’t know what it was yet.

 

Kris walked back into the CVS and collected his basket. He stared at the box of condoms, biting his lip.

 

_Why not?_ He grinned to himself, walking to the registers.  

 

***

 

**The Peacock Café**

**3251 Prospect Street**

**Wednesday, June 5**

 

 

Georgetown was one of the nicest neighborhoods in the city, but Kris always felt like he was trespassing whenever he was there. He preferred the laid back environment of Columbia Heights with its friendly neighborhood bars, restaurants with sidewalk seating, and weekend farmer’s markets where Kris haggled excitedly over the price of vegetables. But Katy loved this restaurant and she was determined to get Kris away from dive bars and cheap food.

 

The Peacock Café was tucked away off of M Street, a modern glass structure behind a row of high end retail stores. He paid his fare to the taxi driver and smoothed down his hair and the lapel of his wrinkled canvas jacket as he pulled his bag over his shoulder. He hurried into the restaurant and nearly bumped into the hostess stand.

 

“Kris, welcome back,” the hostess greeted, smiling warmly at him.

 

“Hey, Lauren, is Katy—ohh, I see her now. Thanks.”

 

He smiled, waving to Katy O’Connell, as he made his way across the room to her table. She wore an impeccable robin egg blue jacket and matching skirt, a modest V-neck blouse, slim legs crossed neatly under the table, and long blonde hair brushed down and shiny. She would always be the most beautiful girl he knew, and in those moments when she smiled at him, he remembered why he fell in love with her.

 

“Only five minutes late this time, you’re improving,” she murmured, looking up at him.

 

He leaned down and kissed her cheek, sitting in the chair next to hers and putting his bag on the floor by his feet. “Traffic. You look gorgeous, as always.”

 

Katy’s lips quirked at the corners as she smiled her thanks. “And you look disheveled, as always.”

 

“I’m working on a new story.” 

 

“Chasing down the dearly departed?”

 

He knew she was just teasing him, but it grated on his nerves. He could hear that _tone_ in her voice, but he ignored it because the last thing he wanted to do was start _that_ fight all over again.

 

“Randy moved me to take over for Caroline—“

 

“Really?”

 

Kris groaned. “Please, not you, too, okay?” 

 

“Sorry.” She reached over and squeezed his hand, smiling at him. “I know you’ll be great at it, but why are you doing the relationship column? I thought Randy put you on probation to cover obituaries… _ohhhh_.” She covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. “Just how many times have you gone into work late, Kristopher?”

 

“You don’t want to know,” he said, sheepishly. “Anyway, I’m working on a side story. Randy said that if I brought him something good, he’d lead with it. So…I kind of need your help.”

 

“Hi, I’m Ben, and I’ll be your waiter today. Can I start you off with something to drink or an appetizer?”

 

Kris grinned up at the cute redheaded waiter. “Actually, we’re both ready to order.”

 

He sat back as Katy put in their lunch order, smiling at the way that she took charge of the simple task of making sure that the waiter knew about Kris’s food preferences and her pepper allergy. When they started their Wednesday lunch dates, he agreed to whatever was on special because it forced him to try new things.

 

“I’ll be right back with your appetizers,” Ben said, his smile friendly but his eyes lingering on Kris for just a moment too long to be considered wholly professional. 

 

“I really miss your accent,” he said, watching as she smoothed the cloth napkin on her lap.   

 

_Miss her_ ; the Katy of their past. He knew it was selfish to hold her to those memories when she was on the slipstream of a comet’s tail with her career.

 

“Southern charm works better in the courtroom than in DC politics,” she drawled, letting her Arkansas accent slip out, her smile demure, but her eyes direct as she looked at him. “So, what kind of help?”

 

Kris opened his messenger bag and pulled out his notebook, flipping through the pages quickly until he came to what he needed. “Okay, so last year, there was a scandal with the previous Deputy Mayor’s chief of staff, John Hester, who was implicated for taking bribes in a land deal that went down.”

 

“Yes, it was a black mark on the Mayor’s office,” she said, carefully, sipping her coffee.  

 

“I know he stepped down as soon as it hit the news, but do you remember hearing anything internally about how Hester was linked to the scandal in the first place?”

 

“Just the usual office gossip. Is this the lead that you’re following?”

 

He pushed up his glasses and sat back, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, sort of; it might not even be a real lead at all. I’m just following up on a story about why Chapman Development and Warrington Group pulled their proposals to develop the land in the Shaw neighborhood.”

 

“Are you asking me as a friend or as an inside source?”

 

“I have a gut feeling that something’s brewing,” he said, scooting his chair closer to her and keeping his voice low. “You have access to all of their development proposals—I’m especially interested in what Adam Lambert wants to do with the land and if he’s made any overtures to anyone in the Mayor’s office to—“

 

“Overtures?”

 

“Or, you know, being too friendly with anyone directly or indirectly, excessively schmoozing city officials...”

 

“You know I can’t say anything about those proposals. Please don’t ask me to jeopardize my job for a news story.” 

 

Kris sat back, rubbing his clammy palms on his pants. “No, no, I don’t want to get you into trouble or anything. I swear, Katy, I’m not going to do anything to hurt you, please believe me.”

 

They stared at each other for a long moment. She wasn’t just his ex-girlfriend; she was his best friend, the girl he thought he was going to marry.     

 

“Hurt me,” she drawled, nodding slowly. “I think I have cause to be a little cautious, don’t you?”

 

Kris felt the breath leave his lungs and his face warm up. He dropped his gaze to his hands on the table.

 

“I knew I was going to lose you when I told you what I did,” he said, softly.

 

_Forgiven, but never forgotten._ His memory was just as clear as hers. He knew what he did had hurt her and he would never forgive himself for that; but he also knew that he couldn’t make her happy, not the way that she wanted and needed.

 

“But I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself otherwise,” he added, defeatedly. 

 

Katy dropped her eyes and frowned at her plate. She took a deep breath and settled back into her chair, looking away from him.

 

“If you can’t tell me or don’t want to tell me, it’s okay, I understand. I don’t want to risk our friendship any more than I already have. I don’t want to lose you completely, not for a story, not for anything.”

 

He watched as she tapped the fingers of her left against the table top, something she did when she was thinking things over. Ever since their break up, she had put up a wall of polite cordiality between them, keeping to neutral topics when they were together. While he wasn’t able to always read her, he was grateful that she wasn’t able to hide her tells from him.

 

“I honestly don’t know anything about the Shaw deal.”

 

“Okay. It’s okay. Thank you,” he said, curling his lips between his teeth.

 

“I can’t help you with your story, Kristopher, but I can tell you that when Chapman and Warrington pulled their proposals, we were told by the Deputy Mayor not to pursue it. Anyway, it just made it easier for Daniel Gokey and Adam Lambert to position their proposals better.” 

 

“Daniel Gokey.” He said, flipping the pages of his notebook. Daniel Gokey was the President of Sacred Heart Foundation. “He’s never put in a bid for land development before.”

 

“Not that there’s anything unusual about that. We receive a number of development proposals from individuals or groups that have never bid.”

 

Kris nodded, flipping through his notebook. “And Lambert mainly builds commercial businesses.”

 

“Think about the neighborhood. Do you really think any developer is going to get away with building a club in a residential area?”

 

“But what else would he build there?”

 

She grinned, a familiar spark of mischief in her blue eyes. “Well, isn’t that what an investigative journalist would find out?”

 

“Thanks, Katy,” he said, smiling at her. “That means a lot to me.”

 

“For the record, I’ll always be your friend, Kristopher.”

 

He could tell that she meant it, too.

 

“Here are your appetizers,” Ben said, walking up with Katy’s Peacock House Salad and his Tuna Tartare. “Is there anything else that you need at the moment?”

 

They politely declined. Kris noticed that Ben had tucked something under his plate. Katy was talking about her sister back home and he slid the Peacock Café business card to the side to see Ben’s name and phone number scrawled on the card front.

 

He tucked it back under his plate before Katy could see it and looked up to see Ben wink at him before he disappeared to the back of the restaurant.

 

***

 

**Sacred Heart Foundation**

**1400 K Street**

**Friday, June 14**

 

 

After a week of calling Daniel Gokey’s executive assistant and relying just as much on his Southern charm as on his press credentials, he was granted just a few minutes for an interview. A receptionist showed him to a conference room with a long rectangular table in the middle of the room, wood paneled walls, and a large framed picture box with about 200 pairs of oddly shaped eyeglass frames displayed. Either Gokey had an eyeglass fetish or he had bought the display case from an eyeglass store going out of business.  Either option was equally creepy.

 

“What do you think of my collection?”

 

Kris turned to see a stocky man wearing a well-tailored brown suit and blue tie walking into the conference room, rectangular brown glasses perched on his nose and a wide smile curving his lips. He wasn’t much older than Kris, but the friendliness of his expression was very obviously a mask, making him seem older than his years.

 

“It’s…an interesting piece of art,” Kris managed, tearing his gaze away from the display.

 

“You must think that it’s really peculiar to have so many frames,” the other man said, peering at Kris’s black frames. “Where did you get yours?”

 

“Walmart. They’re nothing special, I’m afraid,” he said, a little unnerved by Gokey’s interest in his eyeglasses.

 

“My wife had such good taste. She’d buy me a dozen new frames every year. This is just a small part of our collection,” he said, standing next to Kris and staring at the case. “My wife gave them to me before she passed. She knew that I had a love for different types of frames so…I keep them in memory of her, you know?” He turned and held out his hand. “Danny Gokey.”

 

“Kris Allen,” he said, shaking the man’s hand. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”

 

“Sure, no problem,” Danny said, motioning him towards the table. “Have a seat. We’re going to have to make this fast. I have another meeting so…”

 

“Yes, sure,” Kris said, taking out his notebook and digging through his messenger bag for a pen. “All right, so, you and Lambert Enterprises are the last two standing with your bids for that piece of land in the Shaw neighborhood. Can you tell me a little more about what you plan to build there?”

 

Danny smiled and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach. “Sacred Heart Foundation – which I started after my wife died – is starting to expand our outreach to the inner cities. We want to build a Christian center for the community, give the people who live there a chance to find God and to use our resources to help them out of poverty.”

 

Kris made some notes and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You’ve been a strong proponent of keeping Lambert Enterprises from purchasing that land.”

 

“Of course. Everyone knows that Adam Lambert is _gay_ and he has a pretty obvious _gay_ agenda,” Danny said, rolling his eyes. “The people who live in the Shaw neighborhood don’t want to see that kind of _lifestyle_ forced upon them, you know what I mean.”

 

“I wasn’t under the impression that the people who live in the Shaw neighborhood wouldn’t want to see more commercial development. It’s hard to deny that when Lambert Enterprises brings a new business to an area, there’s a lot of growth and financial opportunities for the surrounding neighborhood,” he said, keeping his voice even as his fingers squeezed his pen, the tip digging into the surface of the paper. He took a quick breath, trying to pull back on his distaste.

 

“Trust me, they don’t want Shaw to become the new Dupont Circle.” Danny’s voice was patronizing, his expression humorless. Kris guessed he wasn’t used to being challenged.

 

“Considering that Dupont Circle has a vibrant community of both gay _and_ straight people…”

 

“Look, Kris,” Danny interrupted, staring suspiciously at him. Obviously, he’d assumed that Kris would share his intolerant views. “I know you’re just doing your job. I’ve never made it a secret that I live by Christian rules and all of my businesses reflect the work that we do in the good Lord’s name. Now, I don’t want this to turn into some anti-gay agenda, because it’s not. I’m not trying to convert anyone; they’re free to live their lives any way they want. But someone has to protect those who would rather not see that lifestyle right on their doorsteps. There’s an elementary school two blocks down from the land. What would children learn if Lambert Enterprises brought one of his kind of businesses there?”

 

Kris made some notes to keep his hands busy or else he might punch Gokey in the face. He couldn’t remember any other time an interview subject had made him so angry. “Can I quote you on that? _‘What would children learn if Lambert Enterprises brought one of his kind of businesses there?’_ ”  

 

Danny frowned and stood up, smoothing down his necktie. “I don’t care if you quote me or not. The community is on my side and the Deputy Mayor’s Office is on my side. I’m sure that the Board will approve our proposal over that of Lambert Enterprises.” He clapped his hands and gave Kris a fake cheerful smile. “So, that’s all the time I have for you. Thanks for coming by. I’m always open to speaking with the press.”

 

“Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Gokey.”

 

Kris had no choice but to stand, shake Gokey’s hand, and follow him out of the conference room. Once outside, Kris stood on the sidewalk, feeling vaguely dirty as he shoved his notebook and pen into his bag.

 

He didn’t deny that he was part of the community now, part of the lifestyle that Gokey deigned as unchristian. He knew as a reporter that he had to maintain objectivity, but in the face of Gokey’s blatant condescending intolerance, Kris had a hard time separating himself from the situation.

 

Kris sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the brick wall. After meeting Gokey, Kris wasn’t sure he could hang on to his objective perspective. He could hear the hatred behind the friendly and disarming façade; he could feel Gokey’s disgust – for people like _him_ – underneath his charity. The whole thing made Kris a little nauseous.

 

He needed to get an interview with Adam Lambert to hear his side of the story. In his research, he knew that Lambert’s personal residence was in Club Aquarius. It was the first club that he built in the city, now his flagship club, with franchises in six other cities.

 

The Post wasn’t that far from the foundation’s offices so Kris decided to walk it back. He pulled out his iPhone and opened his Yelp app and looked up Club Aquarius. He thumbed the phone number and placed the call, putting the phone to his ear.

 

It rang a few times and Kris was caught off guard when it was answered.

 

“Club Aquarius.”

 

“Hi, my name is Kris Allen, I’m a reporter at _The Washington Post_ , and I was wondering if I could make an appointment to interview Adam Lambert.”

 

“For what purpose?” The woman asked, politely.

 

“I’d like to interview him about his Shaw neighborhood real estate proposal.”

 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Allen, but Mr. Lambert is not giving interviews about his real estate developments at this time.”

 

That didn’t give him much of an opening. Kris chewed on his lip, frowning. “Do you have an opening in his schedule for when Mr. Lambert will be available to talk about his other businesses?”

 

“Mr. Lambert will only provide an interview about his entertainment businesses.”

 

“Okay, then, could I make an appointment to see Mr. Lambert as soon as possible?”

 

There was a pause and Kris stopped at the corner, waiting for the walk sign. “His first available opening is in three weeks.”

 

“Three weeks?” Kris rolled his eyes. Why wouldn’t he have anything open sooner? It wasn’t like he was – oh wait, Adam Lambert was a big deal in the city. “Okay, I’ll take it. Whatever time is convenient for him.”

 

“I can’t promise that this may be rescheduled as Mr. Lambert may not be available that far in advance, Mr. Allen,” the woman said, her soft voice just faintly amused. “I have you down for 4 in the afternoon at Club Aquarius or would you prefer to make a reservation elsewhere.”

 

“No, the club is fine, I’ll take what I can get, thank you so much,” he said, crossing the street and tucking his hand into his pocket. He had a brilliant idea. “Oh, could I speak to him now? I mean, if he’s available?”

 

“As I said, Mr. Lambert is not—“

 

“No, not to interview him, I mean…” he cleared his throat and stopped walking, moving out of the way by standing next to the building. “I met Mr. Lambert – Adam, a couple nights ago. If you tell him that it’s Kristopher Allen, he…he saved me from crashing inside the CVS, I think he might take my call?”

 

“If you leave me a number, I’ll make sure Mr. Lambert receives your message.”

 

“Maybe you could give me his number?”

 

The woman chuckled softly. “I don’t think so.”

 

Kris sighed and rattled off his cellphone number and politely thanked the woman. He ended the call and tapped the edge of the phone on his chin, wondering if there was a better way to get in touch with Adam Lambert. Surely, the man must leave the club at some point in his day. But who would share his schedule with Kris? Who would know his comings and goings around the city?

 

***

 

**The Washington Post**

**Thursday, June 20**

 

 

After calling Club Aquarius four more times, trying to get someone to let him talk to Adam, Kris was finally at the end of his rope. He pushed his chair from his desk and stood up, walking across the bullpen to the open staircase that went up to the second floor offices and conference rooms. He wandered through the maze of cubicles until he found the one person who had the kind of insight Kris needed.

 

“Brad, I need your help.”

 

Brad fluttered his eyelashes and grinned. “Oh, baby, tell me all the ways that I can help.”

 

Kris laughed and leaned against the edge of Brad’s desk. “I need to meet Adam Lambert.”

 

“You and every other cutie in the city.”

 

“I’m serious,” he said, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. A part of him didn’t want to tell Brad, but he knew that in order to get a fair exchange of help, Brad would demand to know all the facts. “I met him a couple of weeks ago in the CVS.”

 

Brad’s mouth dropped open and he turned in his chair, staring up at Kris. “No fucking way. Do not bullshit me, boy, I can tell a bullshitter from a mile away.”

 

“I might have flirted with him.”

 

“Did you take him back to your crappy Columbia Heights apartment and then make him breakfast the morning after? Is that why you’re always coming in late?” He said, shrewdly.

 

“No, nothing like that.” He didn’t need to tell Brad that if Adam had offered, Kris would have accepted. “I’m working on that real estate development story and I’m trying to get an interview with Adam and…I ran out of ideas for how to get in touch with him. I’ve been calling his office and leaving messages, but I doubt they’re being passed along to him.”

 

“Well, you are his type,” Brad murmured, grinning at him slyly. “ _Hmm_ …this is a very interesting piece of news, Kristopher. You’ve been holding out on me. Tell me everything.”

 

He ran his hand over his head and knew he was blushing. “This better not suddenly show up in the office newsletter or I swear I will report you to HR.”

 

Brad smiled, sweetly. “I’m flattered you think it’s me, but I’m actually not the office gossipmonger. Go on.”

 

“Well, I was in CVS and I bumped into him and he caught me before I could fall and…I didn’t know who he was at the time so I might have flirted a little with him and…then he had to leave.”

 

“ _Pfft_ , you’re the worst storyteller ever. Tell me about the flirting.”

 

“I—he was holding me up and…”

 

Brad licked his lips, sitting up in his chair. “And?”

 

“And nothing,” he said, grinning a little. He could admit that his fantasies for the past couple of weeks brought about a number of different scenarios for how things could’ve gone that night. “His bodyguard told him he had a call and he left before I could ask him, um…”

 

Brad crossed his arms, raising his eyebrow.

 

“Before I could ask him out, okay?”

 

“Oh, baby, you got it bad for him, don’t you.”  

 

“Brad, if you know how to get in touch with him so I don’t have to go through his people, please tell me.” He took a deep breath. “I’ll do anything you want.”

 

Brad’s brown eyes narrowed. “Anything I want.”

 

“Yeah,” he said, meeting Brad’s eyes. He winced when he saw the look of excitement forming on Brad’s handsome face.

 

“Swear it on your mother, Kristopher.”

 

“Fine. I swear on my mama that I will do anything you want – but I want a disclaimer that if it’s something that goes against the laws of man or the laws of God, you forfeit and I’m free from all claims.”

 

Brad quirked a half-smile up at him, his low-lidded eyes looking Kris up and down. Kris knew he would live to regret it, but he didn’t want to wait two more weeks trying to get an appointment with Adam Lambert.

 

“Then I will further add that there is no expiration date for when I can claim my favor.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Then I accept your terms. Adam is known to power lunch with the managers of his businesses every Thursday at Georgia Brown’s.”

 

Kris gasped and opened his mouth. “Thurs—that’s today.” He hurried looked around and saw that it was just a little after noon. “I could make it there in like twenty minutes.”

 

“Whoa, hold up, Kris. How on earth do you plan to even get into Georgia Brown’s?” Brad waved his hand regally at Kris’s plaid shirt and khaki pants. “You won’t even get on the wait list, let alone seated. Sweetie, didn’t I tell you to always have a jacket with you for when you’re out and about in the city?”

 

Kris sighed and shook his head. “Crap.”

 

“You really need to practice your stalking skills.” Brad chuckled as Kris gave him a look. “You can always wait for Adam Lambert to come out of the restaurant.”

 

“Hah! Yes, that’s right,” he said, standing up. He grinned at Brad and pointed his finger at him. “You…I owe you one.”

 

Brad giggled and then licked his lips, letting his eyes slide now Kris’s body. “You totally owe me, but it’s not just one, baby.”

 

***

 

**Georgia Brown’s**

**950 15th Street**

 

 

The Southern-fare restaurant was just a block away from the White House and was known for hosting White House staffers and Congressional staffers at their white tablecloth covered tables. Georgia Brown’s was the place for power lunches and Southern Hospitality. Kris peeked into the restaurant windows and looked around the busy lunch time crowd – he spotted a number of familiar political faces – but he felt his heart beat faster when he saw Adam sitting at a table with four men and two women, looking just as gorgeous and as untouchable as the last time Kris saw him.

 

Kris crossed the street to the small park and sat down on the bench, turning so that he had a clear view of the restaurant’s front door and dark green awnings. He fidgeted on the hard wooden bench, leaning back and crossing his leg over his knee, then sitting with his elbows propped up on his thighs. He checked the time on his iPhone and then played through a whole level of Angry Birds; he’d been waiting for about an hour. And he was prepared to wait even longer.

 

The door opened and Kris bit his lip, standing up when he saw Adam walking out of the restaurant with his group. They were still talking, standing on the sidewalk, while one of the men stepped away to catch a taxi cab. Kris knew this was his chance and he ran across the street when cars stopped due to traffic, his heart lurching in his chest when he was nearly run over, his attention riveted on Adam.

 

“Mr. Lambert!” He called, waving his hand.

 

Adam turned his head and stared at Kris as he walked quickly towards them. For a second, Kris didn’t think Adam remembered him and it made him feel like a schmuck, calling his name to get his attention.

 

But Adam’s lips curled into a smile. “Well, I did say that I liked persistence.”

 

“Hi,” he said, walking towards Adam, the group of people looking at him curiously. “You are really hard to get a hold of, Mr. Lambert.”

 

“Everyone, may I introduce Kristopher Allen, my stalker from _The Washington Post_ ,” Adam said to the people he was with. They eyed Kris with speculative amusement. Adam raised his eyebrow as he gazed at Kris. “How may I help you, Mr. Allen?”

 

“I’ve been trying to get an interview with you about your Shaw neighborhood deal.”

 

“Adam, the car’s here,” one of the men said, holding the door to the back of a black limo.

 

“Should we call for your security team or can you handle him on your own?” One of the women said, grinning at Kris.

 

“That’s not necessary. Go ahead,” Adam said to his group. “I’ll be just a moment.”

 

Kris held his breath, wondering if Adam would agree to an interview. Adam smiled, eyes dark and predatory as he looked Kris over. It made Kris want to take a step back from his intense stare, trying not to let his eyes linger on the sweep of Adam’s bangs, the fresh gloss on his lips. He was excited that the attraction was still mutual, but Kris didn’t know how to take that next step. The only connection he had to Adam was the interview. And _what if_ Adam agreed and Kris got his interview, what then? Kris would always be a reporter, always looking for his next story, and Kris knew in his gut that Adam Lambert had secrets.

 

There were too many “what ifs” with Adam.

 

“How long have you been waiting for me?”

 

“For about an hour.”

 

“I’m impressed that you knew how to find me.”

 

“I did some research.”

 

“I’m sure that my assistant told you that I’m not giving interviews about my real estate ventures,” Adam murmured, keeping his voice low. “And yet somehow, you are on my appointment calendar in two weeks. You do know that I am going to have to cancel that appointment.”

 

“I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions, just a statement about your development proposal for the neighborhood—“

 

Adam smiled and then shook his head. “I have no comment.”

 

He turned to go and Kris reached out and held his arm. “Adam, wait.”

 

Blue eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re playing with fire, Kristopher.”

 

Kris shivered at the warning tone of Adam’s voice. It was a challenge and a dare; arrogance lining Adam’s face as he tilted his chin back to stare down at Kris. It made Kris tighten his hold on Adam’s arm; it made Kris want to cross the line.

 

“If you’d just let me interview you, I promise to leave you alone.”

 

Adam laughed, shaking off Kris’s hold. He sighed and gave Kris a fond look, eyes moving over his face and down his body. “I always seem to feel a sense of regret after our meetings.”

 

“It doesn’t have to be…regretful,” Kris said, giving his best flirty smile. He could see that Adam was affected by it, could read that Adam wanted him, like if they were alone, Adam would invite him into the back of the limo.

 

“Oh, really?” Adam said, smiling widely.

 

Kris sighed, deflating, giving Adam a sheepish grin. “Well, no, not like that.”

 

“It was good to see you.”

 

Kris watched as Adam walked towards the limo and disappeared inside the vehicle, watching as the car moved down the street. He really needed another plan. He needed to step up his game so that he could get an interview with Adam. He realized that he had one last option left to him before he would have to give up.

 

Taking his phone from his pocket, he scrolled through his contacts and texted Brad a message:

 

_Need new plan. Have to get into Club Aquarius. Help?_

 

He didn’t even bother putting the phone away, knowing that Brad would respond in a second:

 

_I’ll meet you at your place at 9 PM sharp! You better not be fucking with me. Kisses._

 

***

 

**Kris’s Apartment**

**Highview & Castle Manor Apartments **

**2505 13 th Street**

 

 

The Columbia Heights neighborhood was eclectic and a melting pot of different ethnicities. It suited Kris’s sensibilities and made him feel like he was part of a community than an outsider. He had a one bedroom apartment on the third floor of the five story brick building and his living room terrace doors opened to the street.

 

“This is so depressing, Kristopher,” Brad said, frowning at his empty apartment.

 

Kris snorted, rolling his eyes. “Sorry, my decorator has been out of town.”

 

“You’ve been living here for two months.” 

 

Kris shrugged, motioning Brad into his bedroom. “I’m a bachelor again, what does it matter? It’s not like the guys I bring home are going to be interested in whether or not I have a couch.”

 

“But it’s such a downgrade from your previous residence.”

 

“You mean Katy’s residence. I just paid half her mortgage. Closet’s right there.”

 

After their break up, it was only right that he moved out quickly. It was true that his apartment still needed furniture, but it wasn’t like Kris was going to be doing any kind of entertaining as a bachelor.

 

He lounged on his bed watching Brad go through his entire collection of clothes – not very much – trying to put a number of “interesting” outfits together for him.

 

“God, you seriously have nothing to wear,” Brad said, shaking his head despondently. “All you have are ugly plaid shirts, weird mustard colored khaki pants, and a Christmas cardigan that should be taken out back and buried.” He turned forlorn brown eyes to look at Kris. “Please, let me take you shopping, just once. I’m begging here. You have a lot going for you, Kristopher, if you’d just let me help you.”

 

“I just need to look like I fit in to get past the line.”

 

Brad shook his head. “You’ll be standing in line for hours with that strategy. Seriously, do you know nothing about how things work in this city? Just walk up to the front of the line and smile your best ‘fuck me’ smile and flash them your press credentials. They won’t know if you’re there to do a story on underage drinking or a write up for arts and entertainment.”

 

“This is such a bad idea,” he said, falling on his back, hands tucked under his head. 

 

Brad pulled out Kris’s best black suit and a gray dress shirt, tossing it on the bed. “Get dressed.”

 

Kris chuckled as he crawled off his bed, shucking off his tee-shirt and jeans. Brad took his spot on the bed and propped his head up on his hand, dark eyes watching Kris avidly.

 

“Seriously, you’re going to watch?”

 

“You’re hot in that cute-boy-next-door-I’d-like-to-fuck way.”

 

Kris pulled on his dress pants. “Cute, huh?”

 

“Don’t discount cute, sweetie, cute can open doors just as easily as gorgeous,” Brad said, licking his lips. “Sometimes, it opens doors easier. You’re not intimidating. You’re cute. Use that to your advantage.”

 

“Right, thanks, Obi-perv,” Kris said, rolling his eyes. He drew on his shirt and buttoned the front. “Should I tuck the shirt in or leave the tails out?”

 

“In. I hate sloppiness. And don’t button your shirt all the way up, show a little skin.”

 

“I’m such a slut,” Kris said, giggling softly.

 

Brad made a dramatic noise. “Actually, you’re not. A tease, yes, but not a slut. I don’t think you could even get away with trying to be slutty.”

 

“Okay, so I just walk up to the front of the line and show my press credentials?”

 

“Yeah. And put on a belt. I hate it when men don’t wear belts when they wear suits. It looks unfinished.”

 

Kris walked into his closet and shifted his neckties, looking for a black belt. He tucked it through the pants loops and fixed the buckle.

 

“What if this doesn’t work?”

 

“Trust me, it’s going to work,” Brad said, knowingly. “They don’t have to know that you’re secretly writing as Caroline. If you look like you could be on the fashion beat, then they’ll want the good press.”

 

“But it’s not like Club Aquarius is a new club; everyone’s already written about them.”

 

Brad got off the bed and walked to his backpack, unzipping it and pulling out a small black case. “True, but that doesn’t mean the club won’t still want to be written about in the press.”

 

“What’s that?” Kris said, suspiciously.

 

He watched as Brad pulled out a fluffy black make up brush. “The final _piece de resistance_.”

 

Kris made a face. “No way.” 

 

“Honey, you’re cute, but you’re not going to make it past the rope line without a little help,” Brad said, honestly. He held up a make-up brush, dipping it in a small pot of shiny powder. “You need a little glitter.”

 

“You come near me with that and I’ll shove it where the sun don’t shine, Brad.” 

 

“You are no fun.” Brad heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s lucky that you have gorgeous skin.”

 

Kris snorted. “Uhhh…thanks.” He smiled at his friend. “You sure you don’t want to go with me?”

 

“Maybe another night, baby, but if you’re trying to get in past the club line to see Adam, you need to fly solo.”

*****

**Club Aquarius**

**1824 Half Street**

 

 

The club was a long, rectangular white and black marble building that took up a whole city block. The sign on the street front was lit with blue neon lights and in Kris’s opinion, was both tacky and glamorous at the same time. The line outside the club stretched around the building and Kris ignored it, walking right up to the velvet-roped entrance.

 

Kris pulled out his wallet and walked to one of the security guards decked out in a sharp looking suit, a walkie-talkie in one hand, an earpiece in his left ear. He held up his press card and looked the man in the eye.

 

“Kris Allen, _The Washington Post_. I’m here to do a story about the club. There’s been some talk that FÜR Nightclub is making a comeback and Club Aquarius is losing its number one standing in DC night life—“

 

“Does it look like the club is losing anything?” The security guard said, motioning to the long line behind him.

 

Kris smirked and then gave him a knowing nod. “No problem. I’m pretty sure I can get in at FÜR and do my write up about—“

 

The guard opened the velvet rope and gave Kris an equally knowing look. “Have a good evening, sir.”

 

“Thanks, man,” he said, then stopped, smiling slightly. “I’d like to have an interview with Mr. Lambert if he’s available tonight.”

 

“You and everyone here; good luck with that,” the guard said, smirking at Kris.

 

“I really am here to report on the club – there’s a rumor that Club Aquarius serves alcohol to minors,” he said, looking as serious as he could with his hair spiked and gray shirt unbuttoned halfway down to his stomach. At least he wasn’t wearing glitter, which was a small comfort.

 

“Talk to Claudia at the door and show her your credentials.”

 

“Thanks,” he murmured, walking towards the girl at the door. “Hi, are you Claudia?”

 

“Yes. ID please,” she said, smiling at him. Her eyes skimmed over his DC license, right to his press card. “Kristopher Allen. Oh, you’re from _The Post_! Are you here to do a story?”

 

“I am,” he said, leaning closer to her ear so he could be heard. “I’d like five minutes with Mr. Lambert.”

 

“He’s not scheduled for any press interviews tonight, but I’ll see if Mr. Lambert is available. If you’d wait at the bar, someone will come find you later.”

 

“Thank you, I really appreciate that.”

 

Kris paid his fee, got his hand stamped, and entered Adam Lambert’s domain of decadence.

 

The pounding, thumping dance music nearly made his ears ache and Kris chided himself for turning into an old man at the age of 29. People were packed from one corner of the huge dance floor to the other, grinding in ways that spoke of loosened inhibitions and sex. Kris tore his gaze away, noting that the inside of the club carried out the same polished/industrial theme from the outside, with black marble competing with exposed steel girders and overhead walkways. The dance floor was flanked by four bars and a scattering of booths, all of them thronged with people.

 

Kris took a deep breath and exhaled, slipping through the crowd. He jolted when his ass was squeezed, but before he could figure out who had groped him, whoever it was had melted into the crowd. Kris looked up at the three staircases to the upper level, then chose one and began to climb. A set of heavy doors were marked by a pink neon sign, proclaiming it the Pisces Room.  Kris nodded to the two burly security guys flanking the entrance as he slipped inside.  He was greeted by a sea of bodies, wearing glittery makeup and not much else, dancing and gyrating on raised platforms. It was more intimate than the huge dance floor downstairs, cushioned chairs and small tables scattered around the room.  Even the music was sexier, complete with a pulsing bass line that made Kris’s blood throb.

 

It wasn’t really his scene, though, so Kris made his way back downstairs and headed for the bar at one end of the room to wait – who knows how long – for someone to get him. He needed something to cool him down. It had been a few years since he had been on the club scene. When he first moved to the city, he had visited all the hot spots and played the games. Then he and Katy had started dating and she didn’t like the club scene, preferring cozy lounge bars instead. After they broke up, Kris had done the requisite carousing in DC’s gay bars, but he never really felt comfortable going to the clubs. But as Allison said, he didn’t have any game and Kris wasn’t built to be a club slut.

 

Leaning against the bar, he finally caught the attention of one of the shirtless bartenders and put in his order. He tapped his hands on the bar, moving with the beat of the music. The bartender winked at him, sliding his beer across the bar.

 

“First time at Club Aquarius?”

 

“Can you tell?” Kris said, taking a sip of his beer.

 

“Well, I’d remember a cutie like you,” the bartender said, laughing. “You just have this look in your eyes, like you’re excited to be here and a just little scared.”

 

Kris grinned, nodding. “Something like that, yeah.” He leaned towards the bartender. “Is Mr. Lambert here tonight?”

 

“Boss is always in the club,” the bartender said, pointing to the VIP booth area Kris had noticed earlier. “The booth in the center is his usual spot. Best place to look at all the pretty boys like you.”

 

Kris grinned at the bartender, sipping his beer. He let his eyes rove over the smooth chest, the hard body six-pack of an obvious gym rat, perfect hair, perfect face, and perfect smile. Too perfect. Kris had just enough experience to know a player when he met one. But damn, he was gorgeous. _Where did Adam find these guys?_

 

“There he is now,” the bartender said, smirking. “Think you have a shot?”

 

Kris turned to see Adam heading to the center booth. He sat down and a waitress immediately set a drink on his table. Adam smiled and Kris watched as he settled in his seat, putting his cell phone on the table in front of him as he looked out at the club, eyes moving from one side of the club to the other. He thought Adam looked like a king examining his empire.

 

“Let’s just say that I’m feeling optimistic,” Kris said, chuckling as he turned his gaze back to the bartender. 

 

The bartender laughed and leaned over the counter, pressing his hot mouth against Kris’s ear. Kris jolted, sucking in his breath in surprise. “You’re just his type if you can catch his attention.” He nipped Kris’s earlobe and stood back, giving him a wicked smile, the lights of the club reflected in his eyes was alluring and surreal. “But if you don’t, I go on break in half an hour.” 

 

“Whoa, um, thanks, but I’m actually here on business.”

 

Gorgeous and _very_ friendly. Kris could deal with friendly; he knew that the bartender was just playing with him.

 

“I’m Theo.”

 

“Kris,” he said, shaking the warm, firm hand. “Nice to meet you.”

 

“It can be _nicer_ if you let it.” Theo flicked his eyes to the corner of the club to a hallway Kris imagined led to the restrooms.

 

He really didn’t know what to say to that, a little thrown by being hit on so blatantly. It didn’t matter anyway because Theo was called away by the dozen other people vying for his attention and Kris watched him go with nothing but an amused chuckle. _Easy come, easy go._ He turned around and leaned against the bar, drinking his beer slowly, moving his hips to the beat, and looking up at Adam’s VIP booth.

 

He saw a woman walk to Adam and lean down to say something to him. Adam nodded and she walked away. Kris cocked his head and stared at Adam, the beer bottle dangling from his fingers, as the music changed and the crowd went wild, amping it up even more. When he looked back, he would swear that Adam was staring at him and it made him nervous. Kris realized, just then, how much he must stand out. He wasn’t dancing, he wasn’t with friends, he was just standing there looking like a total dork. Of course he must’ve looked out of place.

 

“Mr. Lambert would like to see you.”

 

Kris looked up to see a security guard motioning him to follow. He couldn’t say anything, too shocked that he actually was going to get to see Adam again.

 

“Aren’t you the reporter with _The Post_?”

 

“Sorry. Yes, that’s me.”

 

“Mr. Lambert said you could have five minutes.” 

 

Kris finished his beer and turned to set it on the counter. “Let me just pay my bill.”

 

“It’s on the house,” the guard said, nodding to Theo to take care of it.

 

Kris followed the guard to the stairs going up to the VIP section. He patted his breast pocket, feeling his slim notebook in the inside pocket. He had written down five questions, just in case this crazy plan worked out and he got a few minutes with Adam. Brad had given him all the background information he had on Adam Lambert – where he was born, where he grew up, the names of his family members, where he went to school, his first business deal, the controversies surrounding some of his business deals, the names of his former lovers – it was frightening what Brad could find.

 

Adam Lambert looked impeccably good. He sat back in his booth, looking like something out of an old Hollywood gangster movie with his tailored suit and wicked smile. He was only a few years older than Kris, but there was something about Adam that exuded a worldliness that was a little intimidating. Kris took a deep breath and didn’t allow himself the luxury of being scared. He met Adam’s gaze head on, tipping his chin a little.

 

“He’s the reporter from _The Post_ ,” the guard said to Adam.

 

“Thank you, Charlie.” Adam looked at Kris and smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Kristopher Allen. Twice in one day; I must’ve done something exceptionally naughty for a _Washington Post_ reporter to come after me. Sit down.”

 

He dismissed the guard and watched as Kris slid into the booth.

 

“Thank you for seeing me.” He smoothed down his jacket lapel, fingers sliding nervously across the fabric, giving Adam a slight nod. “I know you must be—“

 

“Actually, I don’t know how I could be of any help to you,” Adam said, a small smirk playing on his lips. “I’m not one to offer relationship advice and I have no interest in obituaries. So it seems very strange to me that you’d pursue me so aggressively for an interview about my development deals, let alone come into my club under the pretense of writing for Arts and Entertainment, if you’re writing as Caroline.” He flashed Kris a wide smile. “I’ve been following your last few posts online and I have to say that your advice to the lovelorn has been riveting, but a little unadventurous.”

 

Kris flushed hotly under Adam’s gaze and he bit his lip, making a face. “I’m sorry for all the games, but I couldn’t figure out any other way to see you.” He gave Adam a nervous look. “If I made you feel uncomfortable about—“  

 

“I’ve dealt with a lot of reporters in my time and I’m usually very good at reading people’s true intentions, except I can’t figure you out. What do you really want from me, Kristopher?” 

 

“I’m actually a writer for the ‘ _DC Wire’_ section of _The Post_ but I’m on temporary reassignment,” he said, meeting Adam’s gaze.

 

“According to the grapevine, you’re on probation,” Adam said, dryly.  

 

“Yeah, it’s true.” Kris was embarrassed to admit it, but he couldn’t help but chuckle. “You have good sources.”

 

He was glad to see Adam throw back his head and laugh, eyes sliding to look at Kris. The smirk was gone replaced by a real smile and Kris felt the tension leave his shoulders as he let out a relieved breath.

 

“Half the time I think you’re pursuing me because you’re trying to ask me out; the other half you’re trying to find something you can use for the paper. So which is it, Kristopher? Work or pleasure? And let me preface this by saying that either won’t get you any closer to what you _really_ want.”

 

He understood that the flirtation was a distraction, just a game; Adam was far too seasoned to take it seriously.

 

Kris stared at Adam, the lights of the club glowing across his face, the way that it made Adam’s blue eyes shine and darken. He licked his lips and reached into his jacket pocket to pull out his notepad and pen, setting them on the table.    

 

“It looks like you’ve already made your choice. Well, go ahead. You have five minutes of my time.” Adam grinned. “Make them count.” 

 

“Daniel Gokey of Sacred Heart Foundation has a bid for the Shaw development proposal. He said that you were bringing a ‘gay agenda’ to the community—“

 

Adam laughed, shaking his head slowly. “Danny Gokey isn’t a threat to me or my business. I don’t stay up nights worrying about him.”

 

“What are your plans for the development?”

 

“I’m going to revitalize the neighborhood,” Adam said, seriously. He sat back and flicked his eyes over Kris with an assessing gaze, taking in the unbuttoned shirt and the skin he was showing. Kris felt over exposed and looked down at his notepad. “I’m going to build affordable apartments and create a shopping center. The Shaw neighborhood is growing and I want in on the ground floor. I don’t have a ‘gay agenda’ but I’m going to promote diversity and tolerance in the neighborhood. The community doesn’t have to be afraid of me.”

 

Kris took notes quickly, glancing up and Adam now and then.

 

Adam glanced at his notepad. “Have I answered your questions?”

 

“Just one more,” he said, meeting Adam’s eyes. “Is it true that you bribed the previous Deputy Mayor’s chief of staff, John Hester, to push your proposals to the Board so that you could win the development bid?”

 

“No.”

 

“But John Hester stepped down—“

 

“He stepped down because _he_ was under investigation for mismanagement of the city’s money,” Adam said, his voice neutral, but Kris didn’t miss the look of surprise that came and went on Adam’s face. “Lambert Enterprises was never accused of any wrongdoing. We won our bids based on the strength of our proposals and because the city leaders recognized the financial profit my commercial businesses would bring to the neighborhoods.”

 

Kris wrote quickly, capturing Adam’s statement, and looked up to offer him a smile. He was relieved to know that Adam wasn’t a sleazebag. He didn’t want to believe that Adam had done anything wrong, especially since the Hester investigation hadn’t led to revealing any illegal dealings by Lambert Enterprises. But Kris needed to hear it from Adam’s mouth.

 

“Adam, I’m relieved to…” 

 

Adam was frowning, staring off to the side. Kris followed his gaze to see a tall, handsome man walking towards them with Deputy Mayor Jorge Campos behind him.

 

What was the Deputy Mayor doing here, of all places? And wasn’t that a little suspicious, especially after Adam clearly defended his company of any wrongdoing with the previous Deputy Mayor. He glanced at Adam, wondering if Adam would offer an explanation, and wasn’t surprised when none was forthcoming. 

 

“Regrettably, your five minutes are now over, Mr. Allen.” 

 

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Lambert.” Kris got out of the booth. “Good evening, Mr. Campos, I didn’t know that our Deputy Mayor enjoyed spending his nights out at Club Aquarius. I’m sure my readers at _The Washington Post_ will find that…illuminating. Could I have a quote—“

 

“I’m afraid that Mr. Campos is unavailable to the press,” the security guard said, taking Kris by the arm and squeezing firmly in warning. Kris looked over his shoulder as he was escorted away from Adam’s booth. The Deputy Mayor looked a little caught out, like he wasn’t expecting to be recognized. He slipped into the booth, looking very aggravated, his hands moving in the air as Adam sat still, staring unemotionally back at the Deputy Mayor.  

 

Kris wished he had taken a picture of the two of them with his iPhone. He made his way back to the bar and found an open spot. He leaned against the bar and kept his eyes on the VIP booth. Campos continued to wave his hands around while Adam was composed, speaking calmly. Kris wished he could read lips. It wasn’t coincidence that Adam was connected to the previous Deputy Mayor and then to the current Deputy Mayor. Lambert Enterprises had won multiple development bids, but at what price? Did Hester make a deal with Lambert for his silence? Did Lambert have the kind of leverage to blackmail or threaten Hester? And what about Campos? Why was he in Adam’s club? This wasn’t a social call.

 

How was Adam Lambert involved? What kind of secrets did the man really have?

 

“Did you strike out?” Theo said into his ear, leaning over the bar.

 

Kris saw the Deputy Mayor and Adam walking down a set of stairs that Kris hadn’t noticed earlier. “Theo, where do those stairs lead to?”

 

“The back exit. Look, come on, cutie, stick around for another hour. I’ll give you drinks on the house and we can…get to know each other better.”

 

“Sorry. I, uh, have to go, maybe next time. Have a good night,” he mumbled, craning his neck to see where Adam and Campos went.

 

He left the club and walked around the block to the back of the building where drivers parked their limos to wait. He made his way to the back alley and hid behind a dumpster, making a face at the smell, and squatted low, peaking around the edge. Whoever said that being a DC reporter was glamorous clearly never experienced the distinct aroma of a dumpster. And something wasw definitely rotten with this whole situation.

 

The door to the back of the club opened and Kris held his breath when Adam stepped out with Campos and two other men. He turned his iPhone to video and held it up, filming them.

 

“—no need to discuss this further,” Adam said, crossing his arms and staring at the Deputy Mayor.

 

“I’m not going to get fucked over this, Lambert. I swear to God that I’ll take you down with me if it comes to that.”

 

Was this a deal gone sour? Did it have something to do with the Shaw land deal? Was Kris actually filming something that could be used as evidence?

 

Adam laughed. “Mr. Campos, you’re not going to get fucked at all. You need to trust me.”

 

“Like Hester trusted you?”

 

Kris clenched his jaw. Adam Lambert _was_ involved!

 

“Hester was an idiot. He let his greed get the better of him,” Adam lowered his voice. “Don’t make the same mistake that he did.”

 

“Are you threatening me?”

 

Adam snorted. “I don’t need to resort to threats to make my meaning clear, Jorge.”

 

“What are you doing back there?” 

 

Kris turned to see a man wearing a dark suit walking towards him. Kris noticed that he was wearing an earpiece and he looked like one of Adam’s bodyguards. He quickly shut off the camera and scrambled to his feet, shoving his phone inside his jacket pocket.

 

“Just catching my breath. I wasn’t feeling too good…”

 

“Were you recording something?”

 

“What? No! I just had too much to drink and—“

 

He turned to see Adam and the Deputy Mayor looking at him. Adam whistled, sharp and clear, and waved to the guard, pointing at Kris. The guard grabbed Kris by the arm, twisting it behind his back, his hand going to Kris’s neck, frog marching him towards Adam.

 

“Hey! Get off me, man!” Kris said, flinching as pain shot up from his arm to his shoulder. “Easy, easy, I wasn’t doing anything.”

 

“He was behind the dumpster; I think he was recording you with his phone,” the guard told Adam.

 

Adam stared at Kris with his lips curled in annoyance. He turned to the Deputy Mayor and said, mildly, “I think we’re done here, Mr. Campos. My driver will take you wherever you want to go. Have a good night.”

 

He motioned for his car to be brought down the alley, opening the back door for the Deputy Mayor, and tapping the top of the car with his hand after he’d climbed in and shut the door.  

 

“Thank you, Nick, you can let him go.” He motioned to his other guards. “I need a word with Mr. Allen privately, please.”

 

Kris frowned, rubbing at his aching shoulder.

 

“Radio us if you need anything, sir,” the guard said, walking into the club from the back door.

 

Adam let out a long sigh. “You’re going to be a real pain in the ass.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking—“

 

“Give me the phone, Kristopher.”

 

“Why?”

 

Adam looked up and down the empty alleyway and before Kris could make a move, he found himself pressed against the wall, Adam holding him with his weight and strength. “Don’t make this harder than it is, baby.”

 

“Get off me.” Kris said, sucking in a sharp breath. He grabbed Adam’s jacket, gritting his teeth, getting ready to fight if he needed to.

 

“Just give me your phone and I’ll let you go,” Adam murmured, lips pressed against his ear. 

 

“Why don’t you tell me what that meeting was all about? After everything you said in the club about Hester and not doing anything illegal—“

 

“I’m not doing anything illegal,” he said, staring into Kris’s eyes. He huffed out a soft sigh, grabbing the edge of Kris’s jacket and reaching inside to jerk Kris’s iPhone from the interior pocket. He stepped away and looked at the video file. “Taken out of context, it is very damaging.” He held out the phone to Kris and he took it back, knowing that the file was deleted. “But it’s not what you’re thinking; there’s nothing illegal going on here.”

 

Kris shoved his phone back into his pocket and glared up at Adam. “Right.”

 

He stared at Adam for a moment, not knowing what to do. If anything, he needed to get the hell away, try to put together the puzzle pieces to figure out what was really going on. He hunched his shoulders under his jacket and made his way down the alley towards the street.

 

“Kristopher,” Adam called, following him.

 

“What?” He said, not bothering to stop.

 

Adam stepped in front of him and Kris stopped, flicking his eyes to look at Adam’s face – that handsome, lying face.

 

“Do you really want to know the truth?”

 

“Do you really think I’d believe anything you have to say now?”

 

He pressed his lips together when Adam took another step closer to him, reaching up to smooth the wrinkles he made on Kris’s suit jacket. “Meet me at the Columbia Room tomorrow night at seven and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

 

Adam walked past him and headed back into the club from the back door. Kris shoved his hands into his pockets and stood in the alley for a moment, the faint thrum of the club music filling the air. He walked to the wall and leaned against it, feeling like he was going to vomit. He was confused; what kind of game was Adam running; Kris wasn’t stupid, he _knew_ this was a game, but what was the play? What was the end game? Why would he tell Kris the truth – whatever the truth was at this point?

 

Kris knew that he would meet Adam; he would follow this story to wherever it led.

 

***

 

**The Columbia Room**

**1021 7 th Street, NW **

**Friday, June 21**

   

 

Kris walked into Passengers and looked around the narrow and crowded bar. He had Googled Columbia Room and was confused to find that it was located in the same building, but he couldn’t figure out where it was and wandered through the length of the bar, looking for a sign or a staircase to the room. He knew he was in the right place and when he came to the end of the bar, there were a number of tables already occupied by people, and an innocuous black door that was slightly ajar.

 

He opened the door and peeked inside to see a small anteroom with a desk and a leather-bound appointment book sitting on top of it. He stepped inside the dimly lit room and saw the coat rack on the wall. There was a step to another door and Kris reached up and realized that it didn’t have a door knob. He was about to slide the door open when the outer door opened, the noise of the bar outside filtering into the anteroom. Kris startled, jumping slight as the young man, smartly dressed in a gray vest, dark gray shirt, and blue bowtie, stepped inside.

 

“Good evening,” the man said, smiling apologetically at Kris. “Welcome to the Columbia Room.”

 

Kris let out soft chuckle. “Hey, how’s it going? This is a really cool place.”

 

“Is this your first time visiting us?”

 

“Yeah. I’m meeting someone. Adam Lambert.”

 

“Then you must be Mr. Allen.”

 

“Kris.”

 

“I’m Eric; I’m one of the servers tonight. Mr. Lambert is waiting for you, right this way,” he said, stepping up to slide open the door to the other room.

 

Kris was surprised to see a narrow room, warmly lit with a number of candles and a few ceiling lights, making Kris feel like he’d just walked into a whole different world. The floor was a dark wood, cloth draped over the ceiling; the walls were painted a pale green and cream, with exposed gray brick walls and simple dark wooden shelves holding large glass jars. It looked like an old-fashioned train car or a Prohibition Era secret lounge. There was a bar along the left side of the room, ten satin covered chairs lined neatly behind it. Adam grinned at him, standing from his chair, as Kris stepped inside. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimness of the room, smiling as he looked around, taking it all in.  

 

“Glad you could make it,” Adam murmured, waving his hand for Kris to sit down.

 

“Are we the only ones here? I read on the Yelp reviews that this place had a pretty long wait list.”   

 

Adam quirked a small, knowing smile. “I know the owner.”

 

“It’s you, isn’t it?”

 

He didn’t say anything but he looked up and grinned at the bartender, preparing what looked like a very elaborate drink. “Curtis, I think we’re ready for the first service.”

 

Kris sat back in his chair, looking around. “This is a really awesome idea, putting a private bar inside of a bar. It’s so different from the main area. I didn’t know what to expect when I came in here.”

 

“The Columbia Room is the brainchild of two of my friends,” Adam said, pride in his voice. “Derek and Tom Brown. Tom opened the front of the bar, Passengers; but Derek wanted to create a place where people could come to drink as an experience, someplace intimate but not exclusive. I thought it was pretty visionary so I invested in their business and Derek allows me to hijack their reservations book now and then.”   

 

“We serve the best drinks in the city,” Curtis said, grinning coyly at them as he deftly chopped the large chunk of ice with his knife and cleaver. “If I may say.”    

 

Adam chuckled. “That goes without saying.”

 

A small selection of pot stickers and steamed artichoke appeared in front of them, Kris almost missed Eric placing the small plates on the counter. He loved the whole set up of it, the purpose of it. It wasn’t someplace he would ever go, but he enjoyed the feel of the small space, the old world warmth of it. Kris leaned his elbows on the table, looking at the bottle that Curtis, the bartender, had set up in front of them.

 

“Cruzan Black Strap Rum,” he read the label of the bottle.

 

“With half an ounce of Cynar, simple syrup, and an ounce of lemon juice – freshly squeezed in this case, in a chilled glass,” Curtis said, straining the liquid, placing their drink glasses in front of them. “This is a Columbia Room specialty called The Getaway. Enjoy.”  

 

Kris sipped the dark rum slowly, tasting the strength of the liquor as it hit the back of his throat. It was delicious and powerful, the lemon giving it a refreshing flavor.

 

“How do you like it?” Adam said, sipping his drink.

 

“Good. Strong.” He paused, trying to figure out one of the flavors. “Is that artichoke?”

 

“Yes, that’s the Cynar. Try it with the artichoke with the herb and garlic sauce to bring out the flavors,” Curtis said, cleaning up his bar area. “Would you like for me to bring out the roast beef next?”

 

Adam nodded to him. “Give us a few minutes, will you?”

 

“Of course, Mr. Lambert.”

 

Curtis ducked out of the room unobtrusively, sliding the door closed behind him, leaving the two of them alone in the private room. Kris speared the artichoke with his fork, dipping it in the sauce, and nibbled on the vegetable thoughtfully.

 

“So I guess we can talk now,” he said, sipping his drink again. It really was terribly good and Kris was Southern-born and bred, it was rude to leave a drink unfinished.

 

“Or we can enjoy our drinks in companionable silence.”

 

Kris laughed, inhaling deeply. “What’s your connection to Campos?” Adam hesitated for a moment as he lifted the glass to his lips. “You said that you’d tell me the truth if I met you here tonight. So I’m here.”

 

“Is that the only reason that you came?” Adam said, thoughtfully.

 

“Sure,” he said, shrugging, trying to play it cool. “Do I need another?”

 

“I know the public perception of me is someone who enjoys a certain type of lifestyle and reputation, but I really do love having a place like this to go to,” he said, leaning his right elbow on the counter, looking at Kris. “I don’t often get a chance to have this kind of privacy.”

 

“Well, you own a dozen clubs and restaurants and tabloids report on you.”

 

Adam smiled, eyes crinkling at the edges. “That’s for work.”

 

“Quit stalling, man. So tell me, what’s this then?” He said, meeting Adam’s eyes. He felt quite bold with the rum in his system. “You said at the club that I had to choose between work and play, you probably have to choose, too.”

 

Adam didn’t say anything, looking into his glass and swirling the liquid gently.

 

Kris felt something dip in his stomach, feeling a little disappointed. He sipped his drink and then threw back the rest of it in one quick shot, grimacing as the alcohol flooded his senses and burned a little on the way down. “Hell, that’s strong.”

 

“If I remember correctly, _you_ chose work.”

 

He blinked and set the empty glass down, letting out a loud breath. “It’s not like you gave me much of a choice. And maybe I wanted it to be play.”

 

“I don’t think you’d like to play in the same way that I play.”

 

“Give me a chance, I might surprise you.”  

 

“Eat and pace yourself. There’s three more drinks on the menu,” Adam said, amused.

 

“Three more? I don’t think I can drink three more of these, man.”

 

“Three _different_ drinks. Columbia Room hosts special drink tasting menus. You could come here every night for weeks and you’d never have the same drink twice.”

 

Kris ate a couple of the pot stickers, trying to put some food into his system to absorb the rum cocktail. He didn’t usually drink anything too heavy and he could feel the flush of alcohol in his cheeks.

 

“Are you trying to bribe Campos into getting the Board to approve your bid for Shaw?”

 

“I don’t need to bribe anyone to get my proposal approved.”

 

Kris ate another artichoke stem. “That’s not a no.”

 

Adam turned quickly, slipping his hands under Kris’s canvas jacket, warm palms moving deftly over his chest, his stomach, and over his shoulders. He stared at Adam, open mouthed in surprise, as Adam met his gaze, his face only a couple of inches from Kris. He was so close that Kris could feel the warm exhalations against his cheek, smell the dark musky scent of his cologne. It made Kris _want_ and he closed his eyes, swallowing as Adam’s thumbs brushed over his nipples, fingers pressing in against his sides. 

 

“What the hell, man!” Kris said, squirming in his seat, trying to move away. He gritted his teeth when he felt Adam’s large hand move up and down his back. “Hey!”

 

“I’m just checking to see if you have a wire.”

 

“Why would I be wearing a wire?”

 

“You’d think it was a simple question, wouldn’t you?”

 

Kris gave him a puzzled look. “What?”

 

Adam quirked his lips. “You’ll have to excuse my caution—“

 

“Feeling me up and thinking I’m wired is your definition of caution? I’d hate to see what your definition is for paranoid.”

 

“You can’t be too careful in my line of work,” Adam said, unapologetically.

 

“And what line of work is that? I thought you were a club owner.”

 

“Among other things. I like to diversify my capital investments.” He released Kris and sat back in his chair, picking up his drink and sipping it slowly. “It wouldn’t be the first time that one of my competitors sent a pretty boy like you into my bed in the hopes of finding out information to use against me.”

 

Kris opened his mouth to say something but he was utterly speechless. “I’m not some—some kind of—look, buddy, I am a reporter; I do work for _The Post_ ; and this is a legit story that I’m putting together. Just because you’re—you’re _Adam Lambert_ doesn’t mean that I’m trying to get in bed with you for information.”

 

“Oh? Is there another reason why you’d try to get in bed with me?” Adam said, giving him a sly smile.

 

Adam finished his drink and Kris couldn’t keep his eyes off the arch of his long neck. He really was beautiful, Kris mused, torn between his journalistic integrity and his desire for Adam. But he wasn’t going to be pulled in by a pretty face; Kris was a professional. He might be just a little green, and possibly a lot horny, but he did know when he was being played. And Adam Lambert was a serious player.

 

Curtis and Eric stepped into the room carrying in more food. Kris smelled the roast beef and he let out a happy groan, seeing the platter of beef, cheeses, and thinly sliced breads. Eric cleared their other plates as Curtis worked on a new drink.

 

“This isn’t over,” Kris whispered into Adam’s ear, leaning in a little closer than he planned.

 

“I hope not. It’s only the second round. I’m curious to see if you can keep up.”

 

“Don’t worry, I can keep up,” he said, giving a cocky smile. “I grew up in Arkansas, man, what else was there to do but learn how to hold our liquor? It’s city boys like you who can’t keep up with us Southern boys.”

 

Curtis chuckled. “That sounded like a serious challenge, Mr. Lambert.”

 

“The gauntlet is thrown down,” Kris said, laughing at the mildly offended look on Adam’s face.

 

Adam cocked his head. “I think you’re a lightweight, all talk, no substance.”

 

“Oh, it’s on now.” Kris turned to the bartender. “Curtis, set them up, sir.”

 

The second drink was absinthe and Kris watched a little gleefully as Curtis lit the absinthe-soaked sugar cube on fire on the ornate silver absinthe spoon, the blue-white flame caramelizing and melting the sugar before it sank into the absinthe.

 

“You know, I’ve only seen that in movies,” Kris commented to Curtis, smiling widely. It was seriously one of the coolest things Kris had seen.

 

“We don’t normally serve this, but Mr. Lambert requested it especially for you,” Curtis told him, pleased.

 

Kris was busy making himself a thick roast beef and cheese sandwich. He took a big bite and nodded in pleasure, chewing slowly. “ _Mmmmm_ …”

 

Adam chuckled, stirring the dissolved sugar into his drink with the spoon. “I think he likes it.”

 

“What would you like for us to prepare for your third service?”

 

Kris waved his hand for Adam to order, enjoying every bite of his sandwich. From his count, they could probably share enough to make four sandwiches in all.

 

“Would you bring us the fish tacos next?”

 

“ _Hmmm…mmmm_ …” Kris nodded, giving a thumbs-up. He swallowed and looked at Adam. “Good choice.”

 

“There you have it, Curtis.”

 

Kris wiped his mouth and hands with his napkin and reached for his drink, sipping cautiously on the absinthe. The taste surprised him. He was expecting something altogether different, maybe something medicinal, but it tasted earthy and sweet, like herbs and licorice. It was a bit dry and tart, but the sugar gave it a flavor Kris never noticed in drinks.

 

“That’s kind of interesting,” he said, holding up his absinthe glass. He felt like his biceps were weighted down so he set the glass gently on the table and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. “I might’ve spoken too soon. I think I’m a little buzzed.”

 

“Lightweight. Don’t worry, I’ll drive you home later,” Adam murmured, swirling his drink as he gave Kris a wicked little smile.

 

“You don’t know where I live.”

 

“Columbia Heights – not too far from here actually.”

 

Kris laughed, pleased and outraged. “Are you _stalking_ me?”

 

“It’s only fair since you’ve been stalking me for weeks,” he replied, smirking. “My security wouldn’t just let you walk up to me in the middle of the street without having looked into who you really were.”

 

“So if you know me, then why did you check to see if I was wearing a wire?”

 

Adam chuckled. “Maybe I just needed an excuse to feel you up?”

 

“I’m not stalking you, I’m investigating you,” he said, then winced, biting his lip. “I mean…”

 

“I know you’re just doing your job, Kristopher, but my business isn’t all that exciting,” Adam told him, cocking his head. “There’s a certain element of glamour to it, sure, but it’s really all about business.”

 

“Just business, it’s not personal?”

 

“Never mix the two,” Adam said, lightly. “And no matter how you dress it up, you are _investigating_ me.”  

 

“It’s not like that.”

 

“You see my dilemma. I could let you into my bed and my life, but I’ll never know if you’re there because you want to be with me or if you’re looking to get on the front page.”

 

“If there’s no story…”

 

“That’s a rather big ‘if’.” Adam sighed, eating his roast beef and cheese roll. “I like you, Kristopher, ever since you flailed your way into me in the CVS. But I don’t get into bed with the press. It’s a conflict of interest; there are too many variables. You live in the black and white; but I live in the grays. I don’t think you’re the type of person who can accept that; and I need to be with someone I can trust.”

 

He perked right up. Was Adam admitting to something? “So when you say that you live in the grays—“

 

“This is _exactly_ what I mean,” Adam said, laughing softly and shaking his head.

 

Kris frowned. “I never said that I wanted to be in—in your bed or in a relationship or anything.”

 

“So if I had asked you to come home with me the night that we met, you would’ve turned me down?”

 

“I’m not like that,” he said, looking away so that Adam wouldn’t see him lying through his teeth.

 

“Right,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “That’s why you’ve been chasing after me; waiting for me outside restaurants; talking your way past my security at my club; and calling my office to get an interview.”

 

“I’m a journalist, it’s what I do,” Kris blustered, more out of embarrassment than anything else.

 

“Precisely.”

 

“So what am I doing here if you don’t fuck the press and I’m not looking for a relationship?”

 

Adam gave him a shark’s grin. “I’ve come to a decision; our version of quid pro quo. I’ll make a deal with you, sweetie. One night only. Tonight. I thought we should just let our mutual attraction come to its natural conclusion and then we go on with our lives.”

 

Kris bit his lip and picked up his drink, finishing it quickly. “You mean hook up?”

 

Adam leaned closer to him, his lips close to his ear, warm breath against his skin sending shivers down Kris’s spine. “We don’t talk about business; nothing but pleasure.”

 

_Nothing but pleasure._

 

“But what about Campos—“

 

Adam pressed his teeth against Kris’s neck and bit him gently. Kris twitched and automatically tilted his head, giving Adam more space. He sucked in his breath and placed his hand on Adam’s thick thigh, gripping it firmly.

 

“What did I say about not talking about business?” He murmured, warm lips brushing against Kris’s neck.

 

“ _Uhhh_ …”

 

“Come home with me tonight.”

 

_Work or play_ , Adam said. Last night, Kris chose work; but tonight, the game had given him a second chance to play.

 

He knew he shouldn’t trust Adam.

 

But just this once, maybe Kris could play, too. It wouldn’t mean anything but sex, a memorable night to satisfy his curiosity. He could separate business and pleasure, too. Adam wasn’t the only one who could compartmentalize a night of sex with a handsome stranger.

 

“Yeah,” Kris agreed, moaning softly when Adam sucked on his earlobe.

 

“Let’s go.”

 

He opened his eyes, blinking quickly, a little embarrassed that he was getting carried away in a public place. He was relieved to find that they were the only ones in the bar; that Curtis and Eric were probably well paid to be discreet. “But what about the food and—and the drinks? And shouldn’t we pay the bill?”

 

“I’ve taken care of _everything_ ,” Adam said, his voice low and rough, a strong hand curling tightly behind Kris’s neck sending a long, thrilling shiver down Kris’s spine.  

 

***

 

**The Mayflower Renaissance**

**1127 Connecticut Avenue**

 

 

When Adam said that he didn’t want to talk about business or get involved, Kris should’ve known that they weren’t going back to his place. And Kris didn’t really want Adam to see the state of his empty apartment, a sad disclosure to Kris’s failed relationship. Instead, Adam said that he had a suite at the Mayflower and Kris enviously wondered if Adam brought his lovers there. Kris didn’t care where they went; he used his time wisely with Adam in the back of the limousine, straddling his lap and burying his hands into Adam’s thick hair, kissing that wide mouth.

 

Adam grinned up at him as he slipped off Kris’s glasses from his face and folded the arms, tucking it into Kris’s jacket pocket for safekeeping. Kris made a needy sound, arching against Adam’s chest when Adam slipped his hand down the back of Kris’s unzipped pants, long fingers slipping under his boxers and dipping between his cheeks to stroke and tease his opening.  

 

“Don’t,” he whined, pressing his forehead against Adam’s hot cheek. “I’m drunk and I’ll come in my pants.”

 

“Just helping you get the first one out of the way if you need it,” Adam murmured, one hand buried into the back of Kris’s hair, gripping tightly to take his mouth in a deep, wet kiss.

 

Kris laughed against Adam’s lips. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

 

A dry fingertip pressed into his flesh and Kris shivered, hissing inside Adam’s mouth when he felt just the tip slip in past the ring of muscle. The discomfort broke through his haze of alcohol induced fever, but not enough for Kris to lose his erection. He thrust his hips, hands tightening on Adam’s jacket, as he shuddered out of the kiss and rose up on his knees, biting his lip and feeling his body throb around Adam’s finger.

 

“You really are very pretty, Kristopher,” he whispered, tracing his nose along Kris’s jawline. “I like my boys pretty and small like you.”

 

“Don’t talk about your _boys_ while you have your finger in my ass,” he said, wrapping his left hand around the side of Adam’s neck and letting his blunt nails bite into his skin in warning.

 

He moaned when he felt Adam slide the palm of his other hand across his belly, fingers burrowing under the waistband of his boxers. Kris closed his eyes and gasped when he felt Adam’s hand on his cock, smooth palm tight around the head, and chuckling at Kris as he held his breath, feeling quite whorish as he thrust into Adam’s hand and pushed his hips back on his finger.  

 

“Not small, though,” Adam said against his ear, giving him a teasing lick.

 

“Asshole,” he complained, chuckling throatily.

 

Adam released his cock and grabbed Kris’s hand, jerking it off his neck and pinning it behind Kris’s back. “I don’t like to be called names.”

 

Kris lowered his face to look into Adam’s eyes. “Then don’t be a jerk.”

 

“You’re not afraid of me; not even slightly intimidated.”

 

“Should I be?”

 

“Maybe,” Adam purred, teasing him. “But, I like it when my boys have a little bit of fight in them.”

 

Kris clenched his jaw, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t like being called a _boy_.”

 

Adam leered. “I can’t wait to get you into bed.”

 

He chuckled at the ridiculousness of the situation and then gave a little hip shimmy, shoving his hardness against Adam’s chest with urgent hip thrusts, and returned the smirk, the alcohol in his system, added with his slight annoyance, making Kris brave.

 

“Why don’t you suck my cock with your _pretty_ mouth and shut the hell up?”

 

“I’ll suck your cock when you beg me.”

 

Adam’s grip on his wrist tightened, just a fraction, just enough for Kris to know that Adam could hurt him if he wanted. Kris caught his breath, his eyes widening as Adam gazed up at him. This was getting to be a little dangerous; Kris liked it, liked not knowing what Adam would do next. He liked the feeling of being held like this, giving in. He couldn’t stop pushing Adam’s buttons because Kris knew, hell yes he knew what Adam wanted to do to him, could see it in Adam’s eyes, nearly black now in the flashing street lights through the tinted limo windows.

 

Kris jolted against Adam and let out a sharp yelp when he felt Adam’s finger push further into his ass, all the way, knuckles of his other fingers pushing hard behind his balls, caught under the straining fabric of his boxers and pants. “Damn you—that was dry!”

 

Adam laughed; his finger wiggling inside of him and Kris groaned, trying to squirm away, to escape, squeezing around that invasive finger as it pushed against his prostate, ruthless as Adam forced the pleasure along Kris’s nerves, not letting him go, not giving him respite. Kris dug his teeth into his bottom lip as he came, feeling his come against his skin, wet and thick as it soaked through his boxers and bled through to his pants.

 

He collapsed over Adam, face pressed against the back of the seat, panting for breath. He tried to pull his arm from Adam’s grasp and squeezed his eyes shut when he felt Adam’s sharp teeth find his nipple through his shirt, biting down sharply. His free hand slapped against the leather back of the seat, curling into a tight fist as he rode Adam’s finger, chasing both the pain and the pleasure.

 

“ _Ohhhh_ —God! Asshole,” he muttered, jerking against Adam’s body, the last of his pleasure ebbing away with the sting of Adam’s bite.

 

“I distinctly remember telling you that I didn’t like to be called names.”

 

Kris whimpered as Adam gently pulled his finger out of him, letting go of Kris’s wrist, both of his hands curled around his hips now, petting him with soothing strokes. He sat back on Adam’s lap and stared at him, meeting his eyes, mouth open to try and catch his breath. He reached down and adjusted the front of his pants, making a face when he felt the wet spot.

 

Adam kissed him, just with his lips, brushing them along Kris’s cheek to his ear, down his neck and up his chin to take his mouth again. He licked at the bite marks on his bottom lip and Kris flinched from where he bit too hard, not yet breaking the skin but still stinging from Adam’s tongue.

 

“There’ll be more of that when we get to the room.”

 

“There better be more lube involved if you plan to fuck me.”

 

Adam grinned, looking up at Kris with half-lidded eyes, sly and secretive, his fingers cupped around his ass and digging hard into the meat to remind Kris that he wasn’t going to take it easy on him.

 

“This is nothing compared to what I’m going to do to you.”

 

Kris shivered, feeling his heart beat faster in his chest. Adam gave him a hard, assessing look, running his hands down the back of Kris’s thighs and then back up, all the way up over his back, until his hands were curled over Kris’s shoulders. He jerked Kris down hard against him, thrusting his hips up so that he could feel Adam’s hard cock under him, hot and thick against his ass.

 

He kissed Adam, both of his hands curled under Adam’s jaw to tilt his head back and pushed his tongue into Adam’s mouth, licking and tasting him how he wanted, wondering if Adam was going to let him get away with it. But all he did was suck on Kris’s tongue before letting him go; his hands warm as they moved down Kris’s back to his waist. If this was a one-time thing, then Kris would take everything Adam gave him. He’d never understand Adam’s world in the grays, but _this_ was black and white enough for Kris.

 

“Good. I don’t like being disappointed,” Kris murmured, running his fingernails along Adam’s jawline.

 

***

 

The limo dropped them off under the awning of the hotel on Connecticut Avenue and Adam took his hand, pulling him through the large glass doors and into the beautiful marble floored lobby. Kris barely saw anything as Adam led him to the elevator. He pulled his hotel key from inside his pocket and slid it into the slot, pressing the P4 button on the panel. And then Kris was pressed against the mirrored wall as Adam kissed him, one hand wrapped gently around his throat, holding him still as his tongue moved into Kris’s mouth, his other arm curled behind Kris’s lower back, pressing against him so that Kris was pinned and on his tiptoes.

 

Kris moaned, moving his mouth away so that he could breathe, but after he gasped, Adam tugged his face back and his tongue was inside Kris’s mouth again, leisurely sweeping across his tongue and sliding over the roof of his mouth.

 

The elevator doors opened and Adam pulled away, smirking at whatever expression was on Kris’s face, grabbing his jacket and manhandling him towards the double doors to the suite. He slid his key in the lock, the soft click of the door opening, and Adam swung the door open, pulling Kris inside and pushing him against the closed door.

 

“Just for tonight,” Adam murmured against his mouth, licking Kris’s bottom lip. “Let me have you.”

 

“You want permission? That’s why I’m here.”

 

“I want everything,” Adam said, pulling back slightly to look into Kris’s eyes. “But this is enough for now.”

 

With a smirk, Adam moved him across the fancy looking living room, what Kris saw of it, and shouldered the door open to the bedroom suite while Kris tripped over his feet, trying to find his footing, when he found himself thrown on his back on a large, plush bed.  

 

“Whoa— _ohhhh_ , this is a nice bed,” Kris said, snickering to himself, a little dizzy from being vertical to horizontal so quickly.

 

“Let’s get you out of those clothes.” Adam worked efficiently, stripping Kris down to nothing in just minutes, strong hands moving up his hairy legs, to the soft skin of his inner thighs and pushing his legs apart so he could kneel on the bed between them. It made him more than just naked, vulnerable and open and _available_. He heard Adam toe off his dress shoes, dropping on the carpeted floor.

 

“Aren’t you going to take off the rest?”

 

“When I’m ready.”

 

Kris cocked his head on the bed and raised his foot, stroking it down Adam’s jacket. “You’re not ready now? Come on, I want to see you. What’re you hiding under these expensive suits, huh? Something that’ll scare me?”

 

He gave a bawdy wink that made Adam laugh. “That night in the CVS, did you buy the condoms?”

 

“Maybe,” Kris said, biting his bottom lip. “Why don’t you show me what you got? Seems kind of unfair that I’m the only one showing skin.” He reached down and palmed his cock, hard and hot under his hand.

 

Adam grinned as he slowly pulled off his necktie. He wrapped the ends around his fists, his grin turning hot and predatory as he looked down at Kris, eyes moving down his smooth chest.

 

“Like what you see?” Kris said, turned on by the fact that he was naked and Adam was still dressed.

 

“Yes.”

 

He grabbed Kris’s wrist and flipped him on his belly so that he was face down on the bed. He brought Kris’s wrist behind his lower back, expertly maneuvering Kris without pulling his muscles. Kris wriggled under Adam and stroked his free hand against the cool fabric of the bedding. He offered his other wrist to Adam with a nervous giggle, turning his head so that he could look over his shoulder.  

 

“Shouldn’t we talk about safe words before we do this? Not that I’m morally against bondage or anything—“

 

“Just tell me to stop if you don’t like something.”

 

Kris closed his eyes and rubbed his face against the luxuriously soft duvet cover. He whined low in his throat when he felt the silk tie wrap around his wrists, tied tight behind his back. “I—I don’t normally do this kind of thing.”

 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Adam said, chuckling softly. “Not too much.”

 

“Just—okay? Take it easy on me, huh?”

 

“You can take it,” Adam crooned, running his palms up and down Kris’s back, from his shoulders to the V of his bound wrists. “Very nice.”

 

Kris squirmed and jumped when Adam smacked his ass with the flat of his hand, the feeling was sharp and it made Kris feel alert and present. It didn’t hurt, but it was unexpected and it made him feel…it made him feel like he could lose control and he wasn’t sure if he liked it. “Hey now!”

 

Adam smacked his ass again. “Be quiet for me, baby.”

 

He licked his dry lips and propped his chin on the bed, breathing heavily as Adam stroked his ass, moving backwards and kneeling between Kris’s legs, pushing them open.

 

“ _Ohhhh_ …”

 

He closed his eyes and shifted his hips, rubbing his cock against the silky duvet. He was already so hard, could feel his cock leaking with pre-come. It wouldn’t take much to get him off.

 

“Not yet,” Adam whispered, taking Kris by the hips and pulling him to his knees so that he was bent over, his shoulders and chest taking the brunt of his weight, exposing him for Adam to do anything he wanted with him.

 

“Come on, Adam.”

 

“Say please.”

 

“Please,” he hissed, urgently, but hid his face against the bed. He could feel his cock heavy between his legs, his balls already drawn up so tight.

 

“That’s better.”

 

Adam pressed his thumbs against the fleshy part of his ass, slipping them between his cheeks and pushing them apart. Kris panted and bit harder into his lip, swallowing noisily as he waited.

 

“I’m going to treat you so good.”

 

“Adam, please.” He turned his head and tried to look back over at Adam, groaning when one of Adam’s hands moved off his ass to grip the back of his neck, holding his face against the covers.

 

He chuckled and Kris could feel Adam’s breath warm against his hole and he clenched from the unbelievable wickedness of what Adam was going to do to him. “I’m going to make you beg.”

 

Kris had no doubts; he curled his hands into a tight fist as much as the necktie would allow, the burn of the silk giving him something to keep him grounded.

 

“You are so fucking hot,” Adam whispered, letting go of his neck. Kris could feel the heat of his breath against his ass, shuddering and stifling his moan when he felt Adam’s wet tongue licking across his opening.

 

“Christ,” Kris mumbled out, trying to pull away from Adam’s mouth. It was awkward to think about and he hoped he was clean enough, but good Lord, it felt amazing. He let out a heady whine when he felt Adam’s tongue pierce his hole, dipping inside and wiggling. _God, the wiggling!_ Kris mouthed the covers and bit down on the thick fabric, crying out as Adam pushed his tongue in even deeper.

 

Kris lost all sense of time, the only thing he could focus on was Adam’s tongue inside of him, lips circling his hole and sucking on him, teasing him with the tip of his tongue, the sound of his tongue rasping against his spit-slick skin. He could feel his ears burning red, pushing back against Adam’s face, bucking his hips when Adam licked down the thin skin of his perineum to suck at his balls. Kris keened, digging his toes into the bedding, arching his back to offer more of himself to Adam’s hot, wet mouth.

 

Adam scattered sucking kisses along the back of his thighs, the flesh of his ass, and Kris groaned, sucking in a deep breath as Adam moved away from him. He heard the bedside drawer open and close, things dropping beside him on the bed as Adam got to his knees.

 

“You’re not going to last, are you?” Adam murmured, stroking Kris’s back as he unzipped his dress slacks.

 

Kris spit out the soaked covers from his mouth and turned his head, wiping the sweat from his face as he blinked, looking at the bottle of lube and condom packets, focusing on them.

 

“It’s okay, Kristopher,” Adam said, running his hand through Kris’s hair, shifting his clothes and picking up the condom. “Just stay like that for me and relax. You’re doing so good.”

 

He heard Adam open it, tossing the foil on the bed, the soft sound of latex being rolled down. Kris panted, closing his eyes again, inhaling sharply when he heard the flip top of the lube snap open, the sound of lube being squeezed out. He felt two cool fingers against his opening, slipping easily into his hole, and he moaned, bearing down and thrusting back. Adam’s fingers felt good, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more, to feel Adam inside him, fucking him.

 

“Oh, fuck, yes!” Kris grunted into the bedding, arching as Adam’s thickness pressed against him. He could feel his rim opening, taking in the head, widening and widening, the slickness of the lube easing the way.    

 

“Let me in, baby.”

 

Kris breathed through the stretch as Adam moved deeper, the ache of it numbing Kris from feeling anything else. He groaned, forcing his body to relax, forcing his ass to stop clenching and to just— _take_.  

 

Adam moaned, deep in his throat, head flung back and eyes closed. “Fuck.”

 

Kris tried not to move, knowing that if he moved, it would only shift Adam’s cock further into him and he was so close. _So close._ He was trembling, every part of his body aching, and he bit his bottom lip hard and kept his eyes closed. It did fucking hurt, but Kris didn’t want to stop. He wanted Adam to go deeper.    

 

“Wait—just…give me a second, okay?”

 

“ _Mmmm_ …I can feel you throbbing around me,” Adam murmured, pushing his knees further apart on the mattress to brace himself as he dragged Kris back against his chest, forcing him to sit up over his lap.

 

“Wait! Just—oh shit!” Kris cried out, trying to adjust to the new angle, the penetration, the burn and stretch of his muscles, his fingers scrabbling against Adam’s dress shirt.

 

He gave a deeper thrust and Kris hissed in pain, rising up and tightening around Adam’s cock.

 

“I’m going to enjoy you,” Adam said against Kris’s ear, his voice full of dirty promises.  

 

“Don’t—don’t move, don’t move, don’t move, don’t—oh! _Ohhhh, God_ …”

 

He let out a harsh groan when Adam tilted his hips up, barely thrusting into him but pegging his prostate, electric pleasure coursing through his body. All Kris could do was take it, lean his head back against Adam’s shoulder, and just take it. He squared his shoulders and arched his back, sitting back against Adam’s clothed body, feeling his muscles relax and squeeze in time with Adam’s gentle thrusts.

 

Adam gave a soft chuckle when Kris started to move with him, his hard cock bobbing and slapping lewdly against his belly, each time sending a zing of pleasure through him.

 

“Ah! _Ahhh_ —yes—“

 

Adam grabbed his chin and turned his face around, his neck moving into an awkward arch, to kiss him. But Kris wanted the kiss, needed it, and it was messy and uneven and so good. He grabbed Kris’s hair and pulled his head back, his other hand sliding down Kris’s chest, pinching his nipple, and down to his belly to wrap around his cock, stroking him with long, fast jerks.

 

He groaned thickly against Kris’s shoulder, fucking him with hard, fast thrusts that made Kris’s body light up with pain and pleasure, skating that edge where Kris didn’t know whether he wanted it to go on or for it to stop. 

  

He moaned when he felt Adam’s hand closing tighter, just under the head, and stroking him with every thrust. His moved his hips back against Adam, his thighs tightening with each movement, until Kris let go a pained groan, gritting his teeth as he felt it coming, coiling in his belly, his ass clenching hard around Adam’s cock.

 

“Fuck my hand if you want it, baby,” Adam said, slowing his strokes, forcing Kris to thrust and grind for more friction, for his pleasure. He shuddered through a hot wave of greed, riding Adam’s cock, hands fisting at Adam’s clothes, tugging so hard that he thought he heard something rip.

 

Adam slammed him down against the bed, hands grabbing his shoulders, holding him down, grunting as he slammed his cock into him, over and over again, freezing inside of him and then shuddering hard enough to make the bed shake. He let out a long sigh and then kissed Kris’s neck before he let Kris go, moving back to his knees slowly, catching his breath.

 

Kris blinked open his eyes and just…could not move, exhausted and bruised and aching and utterly sated. He croaked out a complaint when he felt Adam’s cock slip out of him, not because of pain but because it was over. Adam chuckled, helping Kris stretch out his legs and move into a more comfortable position on the bed. He fell on his back beside Kris, smug grin on his full lips as he turned, peering at Kris.  

 

“I can’t believe you’re still wearing all your clothes,” he said, slightly disgruntled by that fact.

 

Adam winked at him. “I promise for the second round, I won’t be wearing them.”

 

“My arms are killing me,” he said, blinking slowly. His arms felt like deadweight, falling to the bed after Adam untied his wrists, tossing the necktie on the carpet. “I need a massage.”

 

“I can always call concierge services later,” Adam said, massaging his limp arms, kissing his shoulder and sinking back on the bed.

 

Kris stared at Adam’s strong profile for a long moment, watching as he closed his eyes, the sheen of sweat smearing his eye make-up. Yeah, Adam Lambert was a player; probably a criminal; but he was so good in bed. Kris hadn’t ever felt like this before, not with any of his previous lovers, so wiped out and high on endorphins, but wanting to go again. He felt his cock flex and twitch; sensitive against the now damp duvet so he turned his lower body on his side.

 

“Are you bribing the Deputy Mayor so that your Shaw bid will pass with the Board?”

 

Adam laughed in disbelief and amusement. “Fucked to an inch of your life and you still want to talk business? I thought we had a deal, Kristopher.”

 

“It’s just pillow talk,” he said, grinning. “I promise I don’t have a recorder on me.”

 

Adam turned on his side and gave Kris a very serious look, all playfulness gone from his face. “Baby, if you run a story about me bribing the Deputy Mayor, I will sue you and drag your newspaper through the proverbial wringer. Years of litigation and lawsuits, we’re talking millions of dollars. You’ll never write another story in this town again.”

 

Kris rolled his eyes and muttered, “Besides, it’s not like I have anything to run with anyway; all I have is my gut instinct and speculation.” He sighed, tucking one of his arms under his head. “I’m a good journalist, you know, I have the patience to follow a story for as long as it takes.”

 

Adam traced his hand down Kris’s hip. “I look forward to the challenge.”

 

***

 

Kris woke from a light doze to feel Adam cleaning him up with a warm hand towel. He grinned and arched into Adam’s gentle touch and looked up at him.

 

“Hey,” he said, stroking his hand down Adam’s lightly furred chest, soft skin covered in freckles. “Freckles?”

 

Adam rolled his eyes. “I used to be a redhead.”

 

“Naked is nice.”

 

He grinned coyly and pinched a nipple and laughed when Adam let out a pained and indignant noise, catching Kris’s wrist and bending down to take Kris’s mouth in a hard, wet kiss. He chuckled against Adam’s lips, trying to wrestle with Adam’s tongue through his laughter.

 

“What’s fair in love and war,” he said, licking Adam’s bottom lip and lifting his head off the pillow to nip it between his teeth.

 

“ _Mmmm_ …you sure you want to play this kind of game with me, baby?”

 

Adam pulled Kris’s hand to his cock and wrapped his fingers over Kris, moving Kris’s hand firmly along his length.

 

“I want to play all kinds of games with you,” he said, stroking his thumb over the head and grinning when Adam let out a pleased moan, his eyes fluttering closed.

 

“All right then,” Adam said, pulling Kris’s hand away and moving up on his knees. Kris watched as Adam straddled his chest, one hand grabbing the top of the head board while his other hand curled around his cock, bringing the tip down to slide across Kris’s lips. He raised his eyebrows. “Open.”

 

“You trying to intimidate me?”

 

“Are you intimidated?”

 

Kris slipped his lips around the warm head, licking at the slick salty pre-come, and moved his head back on the pillow as Adam pressed his cock further into his mouth, slow and gentle, easing out and then stroking right back inside. Kris groaned, closing his eyes, his hands holding Adam’s hips, thumbs stroking the soft skin.

 

Adam looked down at him, watching through slitted eyes, breathing loudly as he fucked Kris’s mouth carefully. “Such a good boy, Kristopher, take a little more.”

 

_Good boy._ Kris shivered, squeezing his eyes tighter.

 

He gripped Adam’s hips harder and pulled him closer, just a little, his tongue finding and stroking along the vein. He wasn’t the greatest at this, but he knew enough of the basic to keep his teeth covered and to breathe through his nose. He moaned, a little helplessly, when he felt Adam give a harder push into his mouth, the head slipping along the roof of his mouth and triggering his gag reflex.

 

Adam pulled out quickly and stroked Kris’s head as he coughed and caught his breath. He smiled, picking up the hand towel to wipe away the drool and spit covering half of Kris’s face, and Kris chuckled, a little embarrassed, feeling his cheeks head up.

 

“Sorry,” he said, licking his lips. “Still kind of new to doing that.”

 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Adam murmured, smiling. “Put your hands on the pillow and don’t let go.”

 

Kris pushed his hands under the pillow beneath his head, holding on to the top of it, watching Adam curiously to see what he would do next.

 

“Don’t close your eyes. Look at me. I want to see you when I put my cock inside your mouth.”

 

“Jesus,” he whispered, licking his lips and opening his mouth. “Don’t choke me or nothing, okay?”

 

“I’ll take good care of you.”

 

He held Adam’s gaze, whimpering in the back of his throat when the head moved between his lips, pushing them apart as the thickness stretched him open. He swallowed noisily, the sound wet and loud, looking up at Adam as he moved slowly, controlling how fast he went, how deep he went, Kris trusting him not to take it too far, beyond that Kris could handle.

 

“You look so dirty like this,” Adam told him, sucking on his own bottom lip. “Taking my cock in your mouth.” He pulled back so that only the head was inside Kris’s mouth. “Suck, baby, please, just the tip.”

 

Kris tightened his lips and sucked, feeling the inside of his cheeks pull in against his teeth. He watched as Adam flushed, his chest and neck and cheeks ruddy with it. It took me him minute to figure out how to get his tongue to slip across the tip without losing the suction and he knew he’d gotten it right when Adam shuddered and jerked his hips back.

 

“Fuck,” he whispered, pushing in just a little and then pulling out, and Kris increased the suction, feeling Adam’s thighs trembling against him. His eyes drooped in pleasure, breaking eye contact with Kris, inhaling a hiss through his clenched teeth. “Going to make me come if you keep doing that.”

 

_Wasn’t that the point?_ Kris made a little inquisitive noise and sucked harder, trailing his tongue over and around the head, coating his tongue with the taste of Adam.

 

Adam chuckled, pulling out of Kris’s mouth and Kris blinked up at him. He watched as Adam moved back, bending down to kiss him. His lips were a little sore, so he was pleased when Adam kept the kiss light and soft, just a brush of his lips against Kris, a little flick of his tongue. He felt Adam’s hands move up his arms, holding his wrists and tugging them.

 

“You can let go, baby.”

 

Kris didn’t realize how hard he was clenching the pillow, his fingers slowly uncurling, stiff and aching. He was so focused on looking at Adam, keeping his mouth busy, that he’d lost all sense of the rest of his body.

 

He groaned when he felt Adam’s hand on his cock, it felt so hard and hot in Adam’s strong grip. Kris curled his fingers into fists and knocked them against the headboard, arching into Adam’s strokes.

 

“Don’t come.”

 

“Please, Adam, come on—“

 

“Don’t come, Kristopher, I have other plans for this,” Adam tightened his hold, just this side of painful, and let him go.

 

Kris stared at him, mouth open, panting quickly. “Hurry up then.”

 

Adam laughed and Kris felt a bubble in his head burst open. He scrambled up on his knees and wrapped his arm behind Adam’s head, kissing him deeply, and maneuvered him around so that Adam was the one on his back, rolling across the bed. He startled and laughed breathlessly, blue eyes bright with amusement and desire, as Kris leaned down to kiss him quiet, nipping and trailing across his jaw to his neck, giving him a firm bite on his shoulder.

 

“Put on a condom and fuck me,” Adam ordered, smirking up at him.

 

There was an itch under his skin as Kris deftly rolled on the condom and then spread lube over his cock. He pushed his hand under Adam’s knee, tucking his leg up and opened, as his slick fingers tapped the pink rim of his hole, pressing the fingertips of two fingers just past the muscle. He watched Adam’s face, relaxed and amused, one hand tugging on his cock slowly. _He really was a sexy bastard_ , Kris thought, turning his fingers inside of Adam to spread the lube quickly.

 

“Hurry up then,” Adam drawled, raising his eyebrows in challenge.

 

Kris gave him a look and Adam laughed, throwing his head back on the pillow. The sound was throaty and low; and Kris wriggled closer to Adam and closed his eyes when he pushed into Adam’s tight heat.

 

“Harder.”

 

“Give me a sec—“ He bit his lip, breathing through his nose, trying to hold back as Adam’s body engulfed him, becoming the center of his world for just a moment.

 

“Come on, Kristopher, fuck me _hard_.”

 

But Adam was impatient and he draped his other leg over Kris’s hip and pulled him in hard so that Kris was flush against him and Kris let out a harsh sounding breath as he let go of the little control he had, thrusting his cock in and out of him.

 

He watched as Adam closed his eyes and arched his neck, moaning uninhibitedly, pushing up to Kris’s thrusts.

 

“You really are gorgeous,” Kris panted out, biting his lower lip.

 

Adam chuckled, looking up at him, black bangs sticking to his damn forehead and making him look younger and vulnerable. “You say the nicest – _ohhhhhh yes there Kris_ – nicest things.”

 

Kris took a deep breath and tried his best to keep his cock moving in the way that Adam wanted. He reached between them to wrap his hand around the hot length of Adam’s cock, thumb sliding over the wet head, groaning when he felt Adam clench around him. His arm shook and he braced his fist against the bed, tensing his muscles, totally engrossed in the way Adam moved and moaned and cursed under him.

 

Adam breathed out, one hand on Kris’s chest, holding him back. “Whew, baby, wait.”

 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Kris said, freezing completely and staring wide eyed at Adam.

 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he said, smiling. “Just, come here.”

 

Kris frowned slightly but then let out a laugh when Adam managed to flip them around so Kris was on his back and Adam was settled above him. “You – _oh fuck_!”

 

Adam rode him hard, blue eyes narrowed as he stared down at Kris, his own hand wrapped around his cock, working it fast.

 

“Jesus, Adam, I’m going to –“

 

“Yeah, come, baby.”

 

Kris gripped Adam’s thighs with his hands and gritted his teeth as sharp pleasure sparked inside of him, thrusting into Adam, his feet slipping on the bed sheets. Adam hissed and sat down hard on him, holding him down, and Kris shuddered so hard as he came, he shook the bed.

 

He didn’t really have time to enjoy the afterglow as Adam slipped off of his cock and straddled his chest, hand stroking his cock furiously now. Kris ran his hands up Adam’s chest and pinched both of his nipples hard, smiling up at him as Adam pressed the head of his cock against Kris’s cheeks, coming on his face.

 

He felt the warmth ooze down his cheek, some got on his forehead, with Adam swiping the rest across Kris’s lips. He licked at it, flicking the tip of his tongue at the head, enjoying the way that Adam had to grip the headboard to keep his balance.

 

“Shit,” Adam muttered, breathless.

 

Kris made a face and wiped his face with his hand, giving him a half grin of amusement. “Really?”

 

Adam leaned down and kissed him, hands stroking Kris’s face and rubbing his ears. “At least I didn’t get any in your eye, baby.”

 

Kris cracked up.

 

***

 

The next time Kris woke up it was to Adam’s fingers inside of him, lubing him up carefully.

 

“Hey,” he said, sleepily. “I don’t think I can get it up again but you’re welcomed to it.”

 

Adam chuckled softly from behind him, pushing up his leg. Kris closed his eyes and made a soft noise when he felt Adam’s cock slide gently inside. “ _Shhh_ , go back to sleep if you want, I just want to be inside of you.”

 

Kris curled into the pillow and mumbled something, which made Adam laugh again, and allowed himself to go back to that state of half sleep and half aware, feeling Adam’s cock twitch and slide in and out of him, slow and easy. He let out a sigh when Adam’s arms curled around him, holding him close, one warm hand caressing Kris’s chest, the other rubbing circles on Kris’s belly.

 

_“Mmmmmm.”_

 

“Good? Not too sore?”

 

“Is good,” he mumbled again, moaning softly when Adam gave a long, slow thrust.

 

From one breath to the next, Kris drifted off, feeling quite warm and safe, possessed and surrounded by Adam.

 

His last thought, before sleep overtook him, was that it was kind of bittersweet that Kris couldn’t ever trust him outside the bedroom.

 

***

 

**Kris’s Apartment**

**Highview & Castle Manor Apartments **

**2505 13 th Street**

 

 

It was still dark outside when they left the hotel, stumbling into the back of the limo. Adam sprawled out across the seat while Kris sat gingerly across from him, making a face at Adam as he grinned smug and knowingly, watching Kris with lowered lids.

 

The rule of this game was simple: one night, no holds barred, and they would go their separate ways. Adam would go back to his clubs and life of glamour and mystery and possible crime; and Kris would go back to his empty apartment and running down stories. Adam closed his eyes, sinking into the plush seat, the passing lights outside lighting up the inside of the cabin to show Adam looking relaxed, but there was nothing vulnerable about him. He was still a predator, sated for now maybe, but still on the prowl, looking for the next opportunity to strike.

 

Outside, the city was just starting to wake. Kris could see lights turned on in the windows of the passing buildings, early birds already starting their work day in their offices. In a couple of hours, the streets would be bustling and full, the quiet of the early morning fading into the mass transit of people coming to turn this city on.

 

The limo stopped on the curb in front of Kris’s apartment complex. Adam’s eyes opened and he looked at Kris for a long moment. Kris smiled at him, hearing the muffled sound of the driver’s car door opening and closing.

 

“Well, I guess—“

 

Adam reached across the space between them and grabbed the front of Kris’s jacket, pulling him into Adam’s lap, a hard kiss on Kris’s mouth, his tongue slipping inside one last time.

 

The door opened and Kris licked his lips, his hands on Adam’s shoulders as he got to his feet.

 

_He couldn’t ever trust this man._

 

“It was good to see you, darling.” Adam smiled, stroking his thumb across Kris’s bottom lip. 

 

_Adam would never trust him either._

 

Kris grabbed Adam’s face and leaned down to kiss him, taking control, tilting Adam’s chin with his thumbs.

 

“It doesn’t have to be a relationship,” he offered, meeting Adam’s blue eyes. “I can separate work and play, I’d do it for you.”

 

“You’re great, Kristopher, but I can’t promise you anything.”

 

Kris scoffed. “I’m a big boy. I want to see you again, just for play. We can have boundaries.”

 

He could tell that Adam was torn, that he wanted to say yes. He slipped his hands down the front of Adam’s chest, under his jacket to feel his warm flesh against his palms through the expensive dress shirt. He leaned down and traced his lips across Adam’s cheek, nipping at the top of his neck, licking the gauge in his earlobe. He felt Adam shudder under him; a little hip wiggle told him that Adam was hard, too.

 

Adam smiled up at him, giving him a contemplative look. Kris leaned down to kiss his lips, but Adam tilted his chin slightly away, eyes sliding up to look at Kris.

 

“Kristopher, don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.”

 

“It’s not like I promised to give you a pass if you’re doing something illegal in your real estate dealings,” he said, a little stung from the rejection.

 

“Work is work and play is play?” Adam said, raising his eyebrow.

 

Kris grinned. “It’s not personal, it’s just business. We both get what we want.”

 

Adam grabbed a handful of his hair, jerking his head back and moving so that Kris went to his knees on the floor of the limo. Adam kissed him, rough and hard, wide mouth taking what he wanted from Kris. It thrilled him that Adam knew how to get what he wanted from Kris.

 

“It’s _always_ personal, baby,” Adam murmured against his mouth. “Which is why, as lovely as our evening was, this is where you get out of my car and go back to your life.”

 

Kris blinked through the haze of his desire, Adam’s words bringing him back to reality. He took a deep breath and nodded reluctantly. He knew it was impossible, that Adam would never give him what he needed, besides the obvious, and Kris let him go, getting to his feet.

 

He stood outside the limo and put his hand on the top of the roof, ducking his head to look at Adam. “I’ll be seeing you.”

 

Adam smirked, a sly wink as his response. Kris stepped back, hands tucked into the pockets of his pants, and nodded to the driver who shut the door of the limo. Kris waited as the driver got back inside, the limo slowly pulling away from the curb. He wondered if Adam had turned around to look at him. 

 

***

 

**Penn Quarter Sports Bar**

**639 Indiana Avenue**

**Saturday, June 22**

 

The Penn Quarter was a popular hangout for the local detectives of the Metropolitan Police Department. Kris had texted Anoop Desai to see if he wanted to grab a few beers Saturday night and watch a couple of games on TV. Kris loved the Penn Quarter because it was an old school bar inside with 35 LED flat screens, all of them playing some kind of game. Normally, he’d want to sit outside under the covered patio, which also had 3 LED flat screen TVs, but Kris was tired of being out in the heat.

 

Anoop arrived right on time, slipping onto the bar seat next to Kris. “Well, now isn’t this a surprise? Kris Allen, reporter-at-large for the WP calling little ole me out for a drink.” Anoop said, putting in his beer order to the bartender. “So what do you want, Allen?”

 

“How come it’s always gotta be something I want? Man, we’re friends, we can just hang out and enjoy a few beers and watch the UNC game.”

 

The other man gave Kris a look, raising his eyebrow. “You do realize that I’m a detective and it’s my job to be able to know when a man is lying to me.”

 

“Not lying,” he said, defensively.

 

Anoop laughed, shaking his head. “You have something on your mind, so why don’t you tell me so I can enjoy my beer and watch my alma mater kick some ass?”

 

“You know that Allison is dating some musician, right?”

 

“Seriously, Kris? You called me out for this?”

 

“I just want you to check him out and make sure that he doesn’t have a record or anything,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “She’s just a kid.”

 

“I didn’t make it to detective in the First District to run background checks on your intern’s boyfriends.”

 

Kris stared at him. “You know, it wouldn’t surprise me to know that you already ran a background check on Tommy as soon as you found out that Allison was dating him. So spill.”

 

Anoop laughed. “He’s clean; doesn’t have a jacket. No drugs, no violence, I called in a couple of favors and talked to a PD buddy of mine in LA where Tommy’s originally from and put his name through the system and he came up clean there, too.”

 

“Okay, that’s good,” he said, grinning. “Thanks, man.”

 

“But that’s not why you called me out, is it?”

 

“You know, you have to stop doing that _‘Lie to Me’_ micro-expressions bullshit on me.”

 

Anoop sipped his beer. “You make it pretty easy, son, your face gives you away every time. Can’t lie per shit.” He laughed, patting Kris’s shoulder. “I guess that’s why I like hanging out with you. You can’t deceive worth a damn and it’s nice not having to wear my badge when I’m out with my friends. So what’ve you got?”

 

“I’m working on gut instinct here.”

 

“This is going to end up with me getting suspended—“

 

“I haven’t been able to run down anything legit yet, but I know there’s a story brewing. I’m working on the real estate proposals on the Shaw neighborhood. It’s between these two guys – Daniel Gokey and Adam Lambert –

 

“Adam Lambert?” Anoop said, nodding slowly. “His name came up a few times in a couple of department meetings; something about real estate fraud and bribery, but nothing ever stuck. From all accounts, he’s clean as a whistle, but yeah, I’ve heard his name before.”

 

Kris’s heart thumped in his chest. “Is there…do you have any copies of reports with his name on it that’s maybe not available to the public?”

 

“Dude, just file with the department, you can get copies under FOIA, you don’t have to hint around at me.”

 

“I would, but that takes like six weeks to process. You could…come over one night, shoot the shit, and just leave a copy on my kitchen table, no big deal.”

 

“Jesus, Allen, this isn’t like in the movies. First of all, I work district detective, patrol unit, it’s not like I have access to get those files. Also, you don’t have a kitchen table in your—“

 

“I bet it’s all online, though, isn’t it? With your detective access, you should be able to print out a few documents, right? You’re just doing your due diligence.”

 

Anoop looked at him. “Why’re you so hot for this Lambert guy? You don’t report on business and real estate; last I heard you write for the ‘ _DC Wire’_.”

 

“Apparently, you haven’t heard of my recent upgrade to the ‘ _Ask Caroline’_ column.”

 

He watched as Anoop nearly spit his beer on the bar surface. It kind of made him happy to see Anoop choke. “What the fuck?”

 

“I’m on probation for another couple of months; Randy’s punishing me by making me write as Caroline while she’s out on maternity leave.”

 

“Jesus, what the hell did you do to piss off the Big Guy?”

 

“Punctuality was never my strong suit,” he said, shrugging. “I’m not really a morning person.”

 

Anoop laughed, leaning against the counter. “God, Kris, you’re a mess. But you still didn’t answer my question. Why are you so interested in Adam Lambert?”

 

“I’m not _interested_ in him—“

 

“You’re such a bad liar, Kris.” Anoop said, raising his eyebrow.

 

“—Okay, I _am_ interested in him, but that’s not what this is about. I just need to bring in a strong lead. I’ve been at _The Post_ for two years but the best I’ve done is a byline on page 3,” he said, looking at Anoop. “If I get this story, Randy promised me page one.”

 

“Ambitious, I like it.”

 

“And if you help me break the story open, you know I’ll give you major props in my article.”

 

“Man, my Captain’s going to eat my head if this blows up in your face, Kris. I’ve only had my detective shield a year, I don’t want to mess that up, you know. I want to move up the ranks, get into the Criminal Investigations Division, but they only recruit detectives with major collars.”

 

Kris nodded, leaning closer. “Anoop, if I break this story, we all will make like gangbusters. I just need a little more information and I don’t have time to play games with the system.”

 

Anoop gave Kris a long look and took a drink of his beer. “I’ll think about it.”

*******

**The Washington Post**

**Monday, June 24**

He’d been in since four in the morning. Kris wasn’t surprised to see that a number of reporters were already at their desks – either they were working through the night or they had come in early to avoid the noise of the bullpen. Kris quickly learned to tune out the constant thrum of noise, especially when they were working on breaking a major story and the bullpen came alive with every 24-hour news station on the flat screen TVs that lined the walls or on individual computer screens, multiple languages spoken at once, reporters and team assistants running to meetings, transcribing press notes, and yelling across the cubicle aisles at each other for latest updates on breaking news. It was madness, perfect madness, nothing like it anywhere else, and Kris thrived in the middle of it.

 

Randy drifted towards his desk around 6:38 AM and leaned against his cubicle wall. “Early today; working on a lead?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Break it down for me.”

 

“It’s just a theory; nothing concrete, you know, nothing to discuss yet.”

 

Randy nodded once. “Don’t forget to get your _Caroline_ work done by deadline.”

 

“I already did it.”

 

“Huh. I haven’t seen this side of you since your first months here. I like seeing this side of you again, Allen; makes me think I hired an investigative reporter. I expect great things from you, son.”

 

“Thanks, Randy.”

 

“Let me know if you need my help with anything.”

 

***

 

**Kris’s Apartment**

**Friday, June 27**

 

 

“Your apartment is a piece of shit, Allen,” Anoop drawled, leaning against the edge of the doorway, looking very hipster cool in his off-duty clothes.

 

Kris rolled his eyes, waving Anoop inside. “Shut it or I won’t give you my beer.”

 

“Here,” Anoop said, smirking, tossing him a manila folder. “You never got that from me.”

 

Kris caught it in his hands and opened it quickly. “Oh man, you got them?”

 

“Can’t stay long, I’m meeting my girl for dinner down the street, but I’ll stay for a drink.”

 

“In the fridge, help yourself,” Kris murmured, flipping through the pages.

 

“No surprise that your beer’s shit, too,” Anoop commented, looking in the fridge and pulling out two bottles. He popped the tops on the counter by the sink and walked to the small kitchen table, placing a bottle for Kris on it.

 

Kris sat down and started reading through the pages. “There’s nothing here that actually implicates Adam in anything.”

 

“Nope. Keep reading.”

 

He frowned, looking at a copy of the complaint form to the Mayor’s Office. “This says that Koskinen International submitted an accusation that Lambert Enterprises didn’t have the appropriate licenses to develop property in DC – is that true?”

 

“Keep reading.”

 

Kris continued reading, looking quickly at the attached detailed letter submitted from Koskinen International and the enquiry report from the DC Real Estate Commission.

 

“Lambert Enterprises did submit the right application for development…but the dates are off,” he said, scanning the sheets. “It could just be a simple paperwork oversight because everything else is above board.”

 

“Like I said, he’s pretty clean.”

 

“So why did the complaint get filed?”

 

Anoop grinned. “Rumor has it that Lambert had a thing with the son of the Koskinen International CEO, guy named Sauli, and rumor has it that Sauli’s pillow talk consisted of stealing business ideas from his lovers and then turning them around for daddy. Adam got wind of it and rushed through his development proposal—“

 

“Which explains the date snafu,” Kris added, nodding.

 

“—and took back the deal, won the contract to develop, and now we have Adam Lambert to thank for Club Aquarius.”

 

Kris pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyebrow. “So what happened between Adam and Sauli?”

 

Anoop gave him a look. “Do I look like a gossip rag writer to you?”

 

Kris snickered. “Well, you do seem to know quite a lot about Adam Lambert’s love life. More than me, and I’ve actually slept with him.”

 

“Conflict of interest, Kris, conflict of interest. Not to mention TMI.”

 

Kris sipped his beer and laughed heartily. “Thanks for this, Anoop, I appreciate it.”

 

“It’s not much of a lead, but you might have to consider that he’s not the bad guy here.”

 

“But there’s nothing that proves he isn’t dirty either,” he said, tapping his fingers on the papers.

 

“So you’re going to keep digging until what, you find something that you can pin on him? At some point, I hope you realize that you’ve lost your objectivity here. You fucked your suspect, Kris, you can’t be unbiased about this now.”

 

“It was just sex,” Kris said, looking up at Anoop.

 

Anoop snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, maybe for guys like Lambert, but not for you. I _know_ you, Kristopher, you can’t say that to me and expect me to believe it. You’ve been with Katy since you were kids. You might have cheated on her that one time, but you came clean and you apologized for your fuck up, and you let her go because she asked. If it was _just_ sex, you wouldn’t have messed up your life.”

 

He pursed his lips and didn’t know what to say; what else was there to say? Anoop was right; who was Kris kidding anyway?

 

“Thanks for the beer, even if it tasted like piss,” Anoop said, smiling at him.

 

“Thanks for this,” Kris said, holding up the papers.

 

“All right, I’m out, I’ll see you around,” Anoop said, giving him a quick hug as Kris walked him to the door. “Also, one word of advice: Don’t mess with Lambert anymore. I don’t know what he’s into or not into, but word around the department is that he’s an untouchable.”

 

“Untouchable? Do you think he’s got the police department in his pocket?”

 

“No, nothing like that; just that we can’t touch him. The man has powerful friends.”

 

Kris nodded, frowning slightly. “Okay, man, I hear you. Have a good night with Megan, tell her I said hi.”

 

“You’ll have to come out to dinner with us soon, all right?”

 

Kris grinned. It had been a long time since he’d had dinner with Anoop and his girl; before he and Katy broke up. “You got it.”

 

He closed the door, biting his lip as he tried to put together what he knew about Adam and his real estate deals. It didn’t surprise him that Adam would have powerful friends, but how far were they willing to go to keep Adam’s hands clean? Everyone had pressure points; what would cause the kind of pressure that they’d be willing to cut Adam loose?

 

Kris didn’t have those kinds of contacts, let alone powerful friends. He could always go to Randy because the big man did have the kind of friends who might be in a position to help. But in this town, that was a lot of political clout and Kris was a lowly _Post_ reporter, he didn’t have the kind of favors that someone with power would ask for in return.

 

He sighed, pushing the heel of his hand against his eye.

 

It was just sex; he was certain of that. Adam was the only person who had the answers that Kris needed. He knew that he was getting closer to the truth; his mama always said that he was too curious for his own good. It was that same hunger for information, for the truth, that made him a good reporter.

 

It was that same curious hunger that finally made him put his own morality aside one night to follow the handsome young man into the club’s restroom, the blowjob tasting like guilt and loss rather than pleasure and self-discovery.

 

There was only one place Kris could go. He had to take that risk. He could handle a sex-only exchange with Adam.

 

***

 

**Club Aquarius**

 

Author’s Note: Kris is drunk and consents to sex; may be triggery as dub-con.

 

 

Feeling completely ridiculous, he pulled on his tightest pair of black jeans and a white V-neck tee-shirt, and strolled up to the three men standing security at the back entrance to the club.

 

“Adam’s expecting me.”

 

“You and everybody else,” one of the security staff said, rolling his eyes. “If you want in the club, go wait in line.”

 

“Wait a sec.” The bouncer gave Kris a long look, his eyes moving up and down, and smirked. “You look like his type.”

 

He opened the door and waved Kris inside.

 

“Have a good evening.”

 

“Thanks, man,” he said; he did not believe that actually worked. 

 

Kris walked through the back kitchens and offices to the main club floor, heading to one of the bars that had the best view of the second floor VIP booths. While he was waiting to catch the bartender’s eye, he looked up to see that Adam was in his booth, laughing and cozying up to a young blond twink.

 

“Hey, you sweet thing, you came back.”

 

Kris turned to see Theo leaning on the bar, grinning at him. “Theo.”

 

“ _Mmmm_ …I love it when my boys remember my name. What can I get you, baby?”

 

“Two shots. Whiskey.”

 

Theo chuckled. “That’s a serious order; looking for some fun later?”

 

Kris looked over his shoulder at Adam who was clearly enjoying the affections from the twink. He turned back and smiled at Theo. “I might be.”

 

Theo lined up two shot glasses for Kris, pouring himself one as well. He tapped his glass against Kris’s, and he watched as Kris tossed it back, the liquor burning the back of Kris’s throat as it went down.

 

Kris picked up his second shot and drank it down, slamming the shot glass on the bar. He blinked and shook his head, letting out an enthusiastic “whoo!” and tapping his hands on top of the bar. “Theo, set up two more for me, will you?”

 

Theo obliged, watching as Kris threw back both of them in quick succession. He could feel the heat of the whiskey inside of him, the rush of alcohol going right to his brain.

 

“Hit the dance floor and get sweaty; I’ll come find you in twenty minutes for my break,” Theo said, giving Kris a bawdy wink, turning his attention to the other customers waiting to catch Theo’s eye.

 

Kris did just that. He found himself in the middle of the dance floor, letting loose and feeling the music. He could feel the heat of the alcohol loosening him up, his head buzzing and heart racing. His moves were nothing special, but he was feeling good and the bass beat of the music pounded through his body.

 

He ended up dancing with a couple of girls, dressed up in shiny dresses, their high heels giving them height. A couple of boys sidled up to him before moving away to chase their own pleasures. A pair of tanned arms curled around his waist from behind and he turned his head to see Theo pressing close against him, gyrating against his ass, holding him steady.

 

“It’s all in the hips, baby,” Theo said, against his ear, and Kris threw back his head and laughed. He opened his eyes and glanced up to the second floor balcony and was surprised to see Adam standing at the balcony railing, staring down to the dance floor – staring right at him.

 

Kris sank back against Theo and allowed the other man to slip his hand under his tee-shirt, the tips of his fingers tucked into the front of his jeans, thumb stroking Kris’s skin. A giggle burst out from him and he hissed when he felt Theo’s thumbnail scratch at his belly, a fissure of pleasure moving through him.

 

Theo arched against him, pressing his hard cock against Kris’s ass. “Come on, baby, come with me to the back.”

 

Kris looked up at the balcony to see that Adam wasn’t there anymore.

 

“Actually, I think I need some water first,” Kris yelled to Theo, who smiled and took his hand, leading him across the dance floor to the bar.

 

A tall man with wide shoulders stopped Theo. “Boss wants to see the kid, get back to your station.”

 

Theo dropped Kris’s hand and smiled. “Easy come, easy go.”

 

“Follow me, Mr. Allen.”

 

Kris nodded, waving his thanks to Theo, and followed the security guard through the club to the back stairs. He wiped his sweaty face with the hem of his tee-shirt and held onto the railing as he walked up the metal stairs to the second floor. The guard led Kris down a private hallway to a black door, knocking on it twice before opening it.

 

“Thank you, Rodney,” Adam said, nodding.

 

Rodney, the guard, closed the door as he left; Kris’s ears were still buzzing from the music of the club.

 

“Why am I not surprised to see you here again, Kristopher?”

 

Kris grinned, shrugging. “What can I say, your club is pretty awesome. Everyone’s so friendly.”

 

Adam snorted, rolling his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I said I’ll be seeing you again,” he said.

 

“I see.” Adam said, amused. He crossed his arms and leaned against the edge of his desk, ankle tucking easily over the other.

 

Kris looked around the spacious office space. It was a comfortable room, black furniture with vivid splashes of deep reds and dark purples on the walls. It was leather and glass and chrome, very masculine, with fresh cut flowers in crystal vases on the tables. Kris turned around carefully, his eyes taking in the Mac book on the desk, an iPad on the coffee table, and a wall of smoked glass that overlooked the main floor of the club. There was another wall with built-in bookshelves and Kris itched to look at the titles to see what Adam was reading. Another set of doors, probably a private bathroom, and French doors that led to the exterior balcony.

 

“Nice office,” he said, turning to Adam. The movement was a little too fast, he felt a little dizzy. “Think I need to sit down for a second.”

 

He walked to the leather sectional and sat down, closing his eyes as he let out of a long sigh. Of course the leather sectional was exceptionally comfortable.

 

“Here, drink the water,” Adam said, handing him a chilled bottle of water.

 

“Thanks, I needed that,” he said, accepting it and twisting off the top, gulping down half the bottle. “I probably shouldn’t have had four shots of whiskey all at once.”

 

“Jesus, Kris,” Adam said, chuckling. He sat down on the coffee table in front of him, elbows leaning on his thighs. “Kristopher, I thought we agreed that we wouldn’t do this.”

 

“Apparently, _we’re_ not doing anything. I was just having some fun. You looked like you were having some fun, too.”

 

Adam’s blue eyes narrowed slightly as he looked Kris up and down, eyes lingering on the vee of his shirt, the sweat stains under his armpits, the tight jeans pulling across his groin. Kris smirked, sprawling even further on the leather, sliding his legs open to draw Adam’s eyes.

 

“Is that so?” Adam drawled, grinning at Kris. “Were you, dare I say it, jealous?”

 

“No,” he said, sulkily. “You didn’t make me any promises.”

 

Adam pressed his fingers against Kris’s bottom lip, making a soft humming noise of amusement. “But you wanted my attention.”

 

He glanced up at Adam and then looked away. “Maybe.”

 

“You have it now, baby.”

 

“ _Oh._ So what’re you going to do?”

 

Kris met Adam’s steady gaze and he had a look in his eyes that promised something, but Kris wasn’t sure if he’d deliver. Adam gave Kris a small smile, sighed, and stood up, walking across his office and Kris swallowed down his disappointment.

 

He closed his eyes and fell back against the leather, pressing the cool plastic bottle against his forehead.

 

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” he admitted, softly.

 

Adam chuckled. “Well, you look like you need a few minutes. I’ll call down to have one of my boys take you home.”

 

_Well, that was a nice thing to do but not exactly what he came for,_ he thought. It was better than trying to find a ride back in the shape that he was currently in. And if Adam wasn’t going to do anything, then he might as well just go home and sleep off the alcohol.  

 

“But before you go, since you’re already here,” Adam murmured, sitting down on the coffee table again, tossing something on the couch beside Kris.

 

“ _Hmmm_?”

 

Adam placed his hands on Kris’s knees, rubbing the palms slowly up his thighs. Kris opened his eyes and stared at Adam, completely surprised as Adam moved closer to Kris, blue eyes watching his face intently, as his hands slid over the front of Kris’s jeans, caressing his cock over the denim. Beside him, he was surprised to see a condom foil and a small tube of lube.

 

“Oh.”

 

Kris sucked in a breath and licked his lips. He groaned when Adam’s hands squeezed over him, his cock hardening quickly. His mouth parted when Adam pulled open the button, deft fingers pulling down the zipper. He pulled down the denim from Kris’s hips, trapping his legs together.

 

They both stared at the tent in his briefs, a wet spot forming from where the head of his cock pressed against the soft cotton.

 

Adam grabbed the waistband and dragged it down over Kris’s cock, enjoying the way that it slapped against Kris’s belly. “Let’s take care of this before you go, since you came all the way out here to see me.”

 

“Yeah,” Kris breathed, nodding slowly.

 

“You did come out to see _me_?”

 

Kris met his playful gaze. “Yes.”

 

Adam nodded, smiling. “Just so we don’t have any misunderstandings, since you seemed to be more interested in seeing my bartender.”

 

“Is that so?” He said, grinning at Adam. “Dare I say it, were you jealous?”  

 

Adam laughed, mouth wide and head thrown back. He gave Kris a coy look and stood up, his hands moving to the front of his dress pants as he straddled Kris’s thighs. Kris swallowed, dropping the water bottle on the floor, his hands moving to help Adam get his pants down.

 

“This is _my_ show, baby,” he murmured, curling his hand behind Kris’s nape and pressing the head of his cock into Kris’s mouth.

 

Kris started salivating at the first taste of Adam, sucking him down. Adam didn’t give him much, just a little more than the head, rolling his hips. He pulled out, grasping the base of his cock with his hand. Kris wanted to protest, it was too soon, he hadn’t gotten enough, but Adam moved off of him and grabbed Kris by the arm, turning him so that he found himself face down on the leather, his legs still trapped in his jeans, strong hands pulling him by the hips.

 

He looked over his shoulder to see Adam rolling down the condom, biting the tip off the tube and spitting it out, squeezing the lube over his cock. Kris grabbed the back of the sectional cushion as Adam sank into him, bottoming out. He grunted with every thrust and Kris’s sweaty palms squeaked and slipped on the leather. He moaned as Adam pushed him down, covering him as he fucked Kris fast and hard. He didn’t have any leverage to move, not with his jeans keeping him from spreading his legs or bracing his knees against the slippery leather.

 

“Jesus, Adam!”

 

Adam tucked his hand under Kris, grabbing his cock and stroking him off with every thrust, hissing “going to make you come so hard for me” and “fucking so tight, baby” and “want to hear you” and Kris lost it, reaching back to clutch a handful of Adam’s thick hair as he shuddered and came into Adam’s hand. Adam groaned against Kris’s ear, thrusting his cock into Kris again and again, holding still and then jerking and shaking against him.  

 

Kris panted against the leather, trembling under Adam’s weight. He made a pleased sound when Adam started stroking his hair, leaving kisses against his ear, his cheek, nipping his teeth against Kris’s jaw and his neck.

 

“You’re going to pull out my hair, baby.”

 

“Sorry.” Kris huffed out a soft laugh and let go of Adam’s hair, patting him apologetically. He dropped his hand on the couch and let out a loud, contented sigh. Adam laughed, muffling the sound against Kris’s tee-shirt.

 

“That good, huh?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You are good for my ego,” Adam said, kissing his cheek. “Stay right there, I’ll be back.”

 

“ _Mm-hmm_ ,” he sighed, stretching out on the leather. He watched as Adam held up his slacks as he walked to the door to the private bathroom. Kris sat up gingerly, inspecting the mess that he made all of his clothes and on the leather. “Adam, I think I ruined the…”

 

He saw the iPad on the coffee table. There was the sound of running water coming from the bathroom.

 

Kris flipped open the cover and then tapped it awake. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for, but he tapped the calendar icon and took a quick look at Adam’s week. His day was filled with what looked like business meetings, going to the gym four times a week, a couple of lunch reservations, a salon appointment. Kris swiped the screen with his index finger to see the next week’s schedule, which was more of the same, and then he scrolled down the screen to see an upcoming meeting scheduled with Gokey and Campos.

 

Why would Adam meet with _both_ Gokey and Campos? Because that’s not suspicious or—

 

“This is the reason why things can’t work between us,” Adam said, standing behind Kris, his eyebrow cocked.

 

Kris closed the calendar program and grinned abashedly, getting to his feet. “Sorry, the temptation was too much for me.”

 

Adam frowned and pulled out his cellphone from his jacket pocket. “Rodney, get my car ready and take Mr. Allen home. Have Stephen come up to my office to escort Mr. Allen outside. Thank you.”

 

Kris pulled himself together, looking up at Adam. “Well…”

 

Adam turned his back to him and took a deep breath. “Kristopher. You have to go. We can’t see each other anymore.”

 

“I didn’t mean – I mean, I know I snooped and crossed the line but…”

 

Adam looked at him, incredulously. “ _But?_ You think there’s a plausible excuse for violating my privacy like that?”

 

Kris sighed, running his hand through his hair. He shook his head. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That was totally out of line.”

 

There was a soft knock on the door and it opened. Kris looked to see a man wearing a dark gray suit standing in the doorway.

 

“I guess that’s my escort,” Kris said, trying to think of something more to say. “It was good to see you, Adam. I guess…I guess I won’t be seeing you around.”

 

“I hate to do this, but you’re banned from the club, Kris.”  

 

That was expected; it was one thing to joke about violating Adam’s privacy, but it was altogether something else to actually be caught doing it. “All right. Well. Goodnight, then.”

 

Adam turned away again. “Goodnight.”

 

 

***

  
**Starbucks**

**Saturday, June 28**

 

 

Kris drank down half of his coffee and stared blearily at his handwritten notes on the Shaw real estate deal. He flipped through the pages and began to make careful notes based on the documents that Anoop had given him the night before.

 

The night before…had been kind of the definitive end to things. Kris didn’t think that Adam would see him again. He didn’t blame Adam; Kris would’ve had the same reaction. Probably. He tried seeing it from Adam’s perspective. If he was doing something illegal, he wouldn’t want Kris all up in his business. But Kris didn’t want Adam to think that he slept with him just to get dirt on him.

 

Okay, he could admit that that was exactly what Adam would think. It’s not like Kris gave him anything else to believe. It’s not like Kris could tell Adam now that he liked him and wanted to go out with him. Adam would probably laugh in his face and Kris was humiliated enough by his stupidity.

 

_The Godfather_ was wrong: It wasn’t business, it was _always_ personal.

 

But there was that upcoming meeting with Gokey and Campos next Thursday night. He was certain that they were going to be meeting at Adam’s club, probably his private residence. It seemed like it was going to be an important meeting – and how was Kris ever going to get in there if Adam banned him from the club?

 

Maybe Brad could sneak him in somehow. Maybe he could go in a disguise and—

 

“Mr. Kristopher Allen?”

 

He looked up to see two non-descript men standing in front of him. Both of them pulled out small leather folders from inside their jackets and held out their identifications to him. _The Federal Bureau of Investigations._

 

“Um, yeah, I’m Kris Allen. Something I can do for you, Agents?”

 

“I’m Special Agent Rhodes, this is Special Agent McKinley; we’re with the Federal Bureau of Investigations. Would you come with us, sir?”

 

Kris frowned, biting his lip. “Am I in some kind of trouble?”

 

“We’d like to speak with you in private. If you’ll come with us.”

 

He nodded, gathering his notes, shoving them into his messenger bag and getting up. He picked up his coffee cup and followed the two FBI Special Agents outside his neighborhood Starbucks. There was a gray sedan car parked on the curb and one of the agents opened the back door, waving for Kris to get inside.

 

***

 

**Federal Bureau of Investigations Headquarters**

**J. Edgar Hoover Building**

**935 Pennsylvania Avenue, NW**

 

 

It was a short and silent trip to the Hoover Building and a part of Kris was secretly thrilled by the fact that he was involved in some kind of clandestine adventure. It was cloak and dagger. It was Deep Throat and the Watergate scandal.

 

_Hmm…Adam could deep throat—whoa, get him out of your head, Allen_.

 

He was pretty sure that he hadn’t violated any laws and he was more than certain that this was because of Adam Lambert. Maybe he had stumbled onto something that the FBI was investigating and they wanted Kris to go undercover and help them?

 

They signed in Kris at the front desk, handing him a visitor badge, and escorted Kris through the narrow, dull, and non-descript hallways to a private and windowless interview room where a well-dressed woman was waiting for him, a blue folder sitting on the table. He looked around and was disappointed that there wasn’t a one-way glass window, but he didn’t miss the security cameras set up in the corners of the room.

 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Allen, my name is Special Agent Kara DioGuardi. Thank you for coming in to speak with me today.”

 

Kris shook her hand, flummoxed by the strength of her grip. “Sure, no problem. I didn’t think the FBI worked on weekends.”

 

“The FBI doesn’t stop investigating just because it’s Saturday,” she said, motioning for Kris to take a seat at the table. “You must be wondering why we’ve asked you to come in.”

 

He took a deep breath and decided that the best thing to do was come clean. “You’re investigating Adam Lambert and the Shaw real estate deal.”

 

Agent DioGuardi gave him a razor sharp grin. “It’s rare that an investigative journalist would be so upfront with our Agency. I appreciate your candor, Mr. Allen. Yes, we are investigating the Shaw real estate deal, and yes, Adam Lambert is a person of interest.”

 

“Look, I don’t know very much, but I believe that Adam Lambert is involved in some kind of criminal activity with both Daniel Gokey of Sacred Heart Foundation and with Deputy Mayor Jorge Campos.”

 

“Do you have evidence to back up your claims?”

 

“No, of course not. If I did, I would’ve gone to the police.”

 

Agent DioGuardi raised her eyebrows and leaned back in her chair. “You would’ve gone to the police, not waited to publish it in the paper?”

 

“I may be a reporter and I may want the story, but my goal is to expose corruption and the break in public trust. It’s not for any kind of glory or whatever.”

 

She stared at him for a long moment, cocking her head slightly. “A week ago, you were seen entering the Mayflower Hotel with Mr. Lambert where he took a suite. Hotel security records the key entries to each room; and aside from the time the suite was accessed at 11:30 PM and room service at 3:15 AM, he and his guest – you – did not leave until three hours later.”

 

He could only stare at her, mortified, his mouth opening and closing.

 

“And last night, you were seen leaving Club Aquarius, which we know is Mr. Lambert’s primary residence.”

 

Kris felt his face heat up and he distracted himself by taking a long sip of his coffee. “Um, well, we’re friendly.”

 

Agent DioGuardi gave him a long look, tapping her polished fingernails on the folder. He looked down to see that his name was on it, and he suddenly wondered if he was under investigation as well because of his connection to Adam.

 

“The reason why we’ve asked you to come here is to ask you to stop your investigation into the Shaw real estate deal.”

 

“It’s my job to find the truth,” he stated, plainly.

 

“It’s the Bureau’s duty to investigate public corruption and to prosecute to the fullest letter of the law any criminal activities made by public officials or private citizens,” she said, kindly. “It is in your best interest to let this go, Mr. Allen. Your further involvement in the matter, whether it is professional or _personal_ , will be considered obstruction of justice and prosecutable.”

 

Kris leaned back in his chair, staring openly at her. “Wow. I didn’t see that coming.”

 

“Stay out of the investigation, Mr. Allen.”

 

He nodded and sighed deeply. “Can you at least tell me—“

 

“It’s best if you don’t know.”

 

“I’ve been working on this story for a long time,” he protested, frowning.

 

“Mr. Allen—“

 

“Okay, fine, fine, I got it, stay away from the investigation and stay away from Adam Lambert,” he said, holding up his hands. “But can you guarantee that I get first crack at the story when you close the case?”

 

Agent DioGuardi gave him a small grin. “If you keep the story off _The Post_ and stay out of the investigation, then the Agency will make that determination.”

 

“That’s not a yes.”

 

“It’s not a no, either.” She said, sharply. “The Agents will return you to your residence.”

 

***

 

**Katy O’Connell’s Residence**

**3030 K Street, NW**

When Kris was with Katy, they lucked out and bought a dream property that the owners needed to unload quickly, just steps from the exclusive Georgetown waterfront. The property was worth a lot more than what they could afford at the time, but it was worth it. They had a panoramic view from their balcony of the Potomac River, the natural light that filtered into their rooms was gorgeous, and Kris was the one who found most of the objects to decorate and fill their home. And it was their home; a place where they used to talk about their future; a sanctuary from the fast-paced world of Washington, D.C.

 

Katy never threw him out; she offered to stick with him and go to counseling. The first few months were rough, Kris moved into the guest room and their work schedules kept them too busy to really talk about what happened. Kris made an effort in counseling, but soon realized that neither of them would ever be happy with each other, not when Kris was desperate to explore the new things that he needed. It wasn’t fair to her to throw his sexuality in her face; and it wasn’t fair of him to give her hope that he could ever change.

 

She buzzed him up and opened the door to their – _her_ two-story duplex when he got off the elevator on the fourth floor and Kris hurried inside the sunlit living room, pulling off the strap to his messenger bag.

 

“You’re not going to believe the morning that I’ve had. The FBI picked me up and took me to the Hoover Building to ask me questions about Adam Lambert,” he said, sitting down on the couch and pulling out his notebooks.

 

“The FBI? Kris, what have you gotten yourself into—“

 

“—so I found out that the licensure paperwork wasn’t filed correctly during the purchase of the real estate where Lambert built Club Aquarius – something to do with his former boyfriend possibly ratting him out and trying to take over the bid proposal – and the dates are kind of screwy—“

 

“Kristopher!”

 

He looked up at Katy. “I think I know what happened; I think I know who it was that filed the paperwork for Adam, but I need you to verify the information for me.”

 

Katy sighed and shook her head. “I thought we weren’t going to use my professional contacts in the Mayor’s Office—“

 

“Listen! I’m so close to breaking this story, Katy. I just need to know who was in charge of filing the licensure documents in the Mayor’s Office when Adam Lambert put in his bid for the 1st Street property five years ago.”

 

She stared at him, her lips pressed together. She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

 

“Katy, please. I wouldn’t ask, but I need to know who was in charge of the Procurement Office four years ago.”

 

“It was Jorge Campos before he took the office of Deputy Mayor.”

 

Kris whooped, laughing loudly as he got to his feet, throwing his hands into the air and jumping up and down. “I knew it! I knew there was a connection between the two of them! I knew it!”

 

“Goodness, calm down, Kristopher,” she said, hushing him. “Now, tell me what’s going on. Why is that important? And what on earth did the FBI want with you?”

 

Kris gathered up his notebooks. He needed to get to the office and start putting together his story. He wouldn’t publish it, not yet, but he wanted it ready so that he could show it to Randy and get him on board.

 

“Oh, they warned me to stay away from Adam and to not get in the middle of their investigation,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s fine, I’m not going to get arrested or anything like that.”

 

“They warned you to stay away from _Adam_?” She said, meaningfully.

 

He made a face. “I’ve been, um, getting to know him.”

 

“Did you sleep with him?”

 

“Katy! That’s not really any of your business,” he said, blushing and looking away from her. “Anyway, it’s not like what you’re thinking. I was just after the story and—“

 

“Kristopher, don’t tell me that you slept with someone you considered a suspect in an investigation because you wanted the _story_!”

 

“No! No, not—it’s just complicated, Katy.”

 

“I would’ve thought that you’d want to break a story with your integrity intact.”

 

Kris sighed, shoving his notebooks into his messenger bag. “My integrity _is_ intact.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Look, thanks for the information. You have to trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

 

“Kristopher—“

 

“I better go,” he said, cutting her off. He kissed her cheek quickly and nearly sprinted for the door. “Thank you, Katy.”

 

She gave him a small smile and then nodded. “Good luck, Kristopher.”

 

 

***

 

**Club Aquarius**

**Adam’s Private Apartment**

**Thursday, July 3**

 

 

There was no way Kris could ever explain to the police what he was doing, climbing up the metal stairs on the side of the building to the private residences of Adam Lambert.

 

But God and luck were on his side as he walked to the balcony doors, taking a deep breath as he wrapped his fingers on the handle, turning it slowly.

 

_It opened._

 

“No way,” he whispered, opening the door and looking inside the living room. No way it was ever this easy; no way that there wouldn’t be a team of security forces who were on their way right now to tackle him and beat him up for breaking and entering Adam’s private residence.

 

Quietly, he closed the door and looked around the room, trying to find a place where he could hide. He walked to a door and looked inside – closet, perfect – and got inside, keeping the door slightly ajar. There was no line of sight into the actual living room so he wouldn’t be able to get video, but he was sure that he’d be able to capture their whole conversation with his phone. He and Brad had tested the range in his apartment, and frankly, Kris was impressed by the range that the iPhone could pick up sound. He pulled out his phone and made sure that it was set on video, ready to begin recording audio as soon as someone came into the room.

 

Kris knelt down on the floor of the closet, praying that no one would actually want to hang up a coat, and kept his eyes through the narrow slit of the door in case Adam came into the room. Not knowing how long he was going to have to wait, he leaned against the wall and reached up to caress the soft cashmere wool coat, turning his face into it. It smelled laundered, hint of sandalwood filling his nose.

 

There was no way – no way that if he got audio of Adam making a deal with Gokey and Campos that it would ever hold up in court as evidence. But it was something that he could give to the FBI to help with their investigation, to at least confirm that Adam was a bad guy.

 

For _Kris_ to confirm that Adam was a bad guy. A part of him was holding out on a small bit of hope that Adam wasn’t a bad guy, that he was being coerced by Gokey and Campos.

 

The door to the residence opened, music flooding the room, indistinct voices blending with the noise. Kris’s heart thumped and he fumbled with his phone, slippery in his sweaty hands, as he tapped the red record button with his thumb, keeping the phone’s microphone as close to the opening in the door as he could without revealing himself.

 

He strained to make out what was being said at first, but the room became quiet when the door closed. Kris looked up to see Gokey and Campos coming into the living room, followed by Adam.

 

_Damn it!_   

 

“…get down to business, shall we? I’d rather not be seen here,” Gokey said, his voice full of disdain.

 

“You’re missing out, it’s a damn good club,” Campos told him, derisively.

 

Adam chuckled. “I’m sure it won’t damage your reputation to be seen in the number one club in the city, Danny.”

 

“Who said it had anything to do with my reputation? Maybe I just don’t want to be associated with a club the represents every sin in the Good Book.”

 

Kris rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

 

“Oh, shut up, Danny, you can leave your hypocrisy at the door,” Campos said, sternly. “We’re about to make you a very rich man so you can just keep your Bible-thumping bullshit to yourself.”

 

“Don’t talk to me like that, Jorge—“

 

“Gentlemen, please,” Adam said, taking a deep breath. “I agree with Danny, I’d rather get this business over with quickly as well.”

 

“Okay, fine, fine,” Danny said, laughing. “I’m all ears. What’re you proposing?”

 

“Ten million, cash and bearer bonds, untraceable, all yours,” Adam said, crossing the room so that he was in Kris’s line of sight now.

 

Kris wanted to duck down, biting his lip so he wouldn’t slam out of the closet to yell at Adam for doing this, to stop him somehow.

 

“All you need to do is pull your bid on the Shaw property,” Campos said, sitting down on the couch. “We don’t care what reason you use, just make sure that it’s a legitimate reason, one that if any government auditing body should investigate, your hands are clean. You’ll forfeit your proposal fees, but you’ll receive enough compensation for your trouble.”

 

He couldn’t believe it; they really were making a shady deal. 

 

“And what do you gain out of this?” Gokey said, crossing the room to look at Adam’s artwork on the wall.

 

Kris narrowed his eyes at Gokey, feeling his lips curl in distaste. He may not like the other man, but he asked an important question, the answer something Kris _needed_ to hear.

 

“The Deputy Mayor is going to be _very_ supportive of my next three bids during the rest of his term in office; and Jorge is going to own five percent of Lambert Enterprises,” Adam said, crossing the room and out of Kris’s view.

 

Campos laughed, heartily. “And when I finally retire from public office, I am going to buy an island in the Virgin Islands and live out the dream.”

 

Kris felt his hands shake and he closed his eyes, trying to slow his breathing.

 

“So we just need you to play the game, Danny,” Adam said, walking across the room to hand Danny a drink. “Play the game and we’ll make you a very rich and influential man in this city. Just think of what that can do for your foundation and your work. I know you have plans to take Sacred Heart internationally; build yourself up with offices around the world. Think of all the fundraising opportunities and the unlimited access you’ll have to the real players on Capitol Hill if you work with us.”

 

Kris watched as Gokey sipped his drink. He turned to look at Adam, a mean smile on his face.

 

“I don’t like you, Lambert, with your _alternative_ lifestyle and your flashy clubs, but Jorge said that you’re a man of your word and that’s something I can respect, even if you’re a fag,” Gokey said, staring up at him.

 

Adam sneered. “Do we have a deal?”

 

“Yeah, we have a deal. Next week, I’ll work with my legal team to find a way to back out of the bid without causing anyone of look twice,” Gokey said, nodding. “I expect half up front and the rest when the bid is cancelled.”

 

“Fine.”

 

Campos clapped his hands, standing up. “Good. Now that business is over, Adam, I believe that I’m going to take one of your VIP tables.”

 

“I’ll take care of everything,” Adam said, agreeably. “You should stay for a drink or two, Danny, see how we live life on the other side.”

 

Gokey gave a loud laugh, following Campos out of the living room. “I’m sure you’ll find us some appropriate companions, Lambert.”

 

“You’re going to love the VIP treatment here,” Campos said, shaking Adam’s hand. “Come down and have a drink with us later.”

 

“I will,” Adam said, showing them out.

 

Kris clenched his teeth and ended the recording. He sent the file to his work email and sat back on his feet, trying to catch his breath.

 

He jumped when Adam opened the door, staring down at him. “Kristopher—“

 

“I didn’t want to believe it,” Kris said, getting to his feet, pushing Adam out of the way. “And this time, I have the proof I need to take all three of you down for this.”

 

Adam grabbed the phone, quickly finding the file and deleting it.

 

“It’s too late, I sent it to my work email,” he said, snatching the phone back and glaring up at him. “I can’t even wrap my head around this. Why would you deal with them? How could you do this and—and look at yourself in the mirror?”

 

Adam gave him a long look. “What do you want?”

 

Kris barked out an incredulous laugh, his eyes widening. “Are you fucking kidding me, Adam? What do I want? I don’t want anything from you—“

 

“That’s not true, is it, baby?” Adam said, his voice low and husky.

 

“You know, I was prepared to believe that you were coerced into having to deal, having to play dirty politics because that’s how some things get done in this town. I was ready to give you the benefit of the doubt—“

 

“By breaking into my house and recording a private conversation, that’s you giving me the benefit of the doubt?”  
 

Kris stepped up to him. “I was hoping that if you had to make a shady deal, it was because you had no choice! But I heard you, Adam, a multi-year deal with the Deputy Mayor to get all of your future bids approved! Huh, it’s just a small investment for you, ten million in cash and untraceable bearer bonds, to put your name on more property. You don’t give a shit about anything or anyone but money, it really is just business with you, isn’t it?”

 

“Shut up,” Adam hissed, crowding against Kris, his hands grabbing at Kris’s arms. “Shut up, you don’t know anything about me.”

 

“I do, though, I know everything now. You’re guilty; you’re just as dirty as them. Hester. Campos. Gokey! How many other people do you have in your pocket in the city? How much of your money goes into bribing people so you can get what you want? I know that this is how you play your dirty games—“

 

Adam slammed his mouth over Kris, his hand holding his head still. Kris groaned, biting his tongue and his lip, trying to jerk his arms out of Adam’s grip.

 

“Get the fuck off me,” he hissed, meeting Adam’s blue eyes. “I don’t fuck criminals.”

 

“I can give you anything you want,” Adam said, against his ear.

 

“No—“

 

“I can take you away, give you the kind of life that—“

 

“Fuck you.”

 

Adam chuckled, pinning Kris against the wall and holding him still. “Yeah, you can have me, too, Kristopher.”

 

Kris glared up at him. “Fucking me isn’t going to make this go away.”

 

Adam kissed him again, hard, mean, and aggressive. Kris twisted away, but Adam grabbed a handful of his hair, making his eyes water, and kissed him again. He reached up and dug his nails into Adam’s wrist, trying to get him to stop, moaning when he felt Adam’s mouth move down his neck, biting him in that spot that made his legs tremble.

 

They were both panting, struggling against each other. Adam was taller and stronger, but Kris was determined. He gasped when Adam turned him around, arms tight around his chest, holding him against the wall. Kris bit back a moan when he felt one of Adam’s hands slide down the front of his jeans, squeezing his cock.

 

“ _Mmmm_ …you’re hard for me, baby.”

 

“Asshole.”

 

Adam chuckled against his ear. “Didn’t I tell you that I don’t like to be called names?”

 

“How about this one: Felon.”

 

“God, you’re so fucking sweet,” he said, roughly. His hand caressed Kris’s growing hardness, fingers sliding lower to curl around his balls. Kris reached down and grabbed his wrist, trying to pull his hand away. “One last fuck before it all goes hell, what do you say? _Hmm_?”

 

“Get _off_ me.”

 

“I’m trying,” he said, sucking on Kris’s ear.

 

Kris stopped fighting and just closed his eyes, putting his forehead against the wall. “Why did you do it? What the fuck is so important that you have to bribe people to get your development deals? Is it about the money? Getting richer and more famous? Don’t you already have enough?”

 

“It’s not what you think, Kristopher.” Adam pressed his cheek against the hot skin of Kris’s neck.

 

“Then what is it? I really need to know that—that you’re not this man—“

 

“And what if I am? What if that’s all I am?”

 

“I don’t believe that.”

 

Adam sighed, kissing his neck. “Come to bed with me, Kristopher.”

 

“That’s not going to resolve anything!”

 

“I don’t care; I don’t care about any of that. If…if I’m going to lose you after tonight, then I need this. I need _you_.”

 

He let Kris go and Kris turned around to lean against the wall, staring at him. “Adam…” 

 

Adam placed his hands gently on Kris’s cheeks, leaning down to press his lips against Kris’s mouth.

 

He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what decision to make. After tonight, Kris knew that Adam would face a media frenzy, a trial, and a possible prison sentence. After tonight, Kris would never see Adam again – would never be able to see Adam the same way again.

 

“The last time,” he said, nodding slowly.

 

“I know, baby, I know.”

 

***

 

In the morning, Kris got out of Adam’s bed and tugged on his clothes. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

 

“I’ll give you three days to get your shit together, get your lawyers in,” he said, dropping his hands to his lap. “On Monday, I’m going to hand over the audio recording and all of my research to the FBI. They can’t use it against you in court, but you and everyone you’ve ever dealt with will be on their radar. Maybe you’ve been smart and you’ve covered your tracks, but one of the people that you’ve dealt with, that’s all the Feds will need, just one of them will turn state’s evidence on you.”

 

“Game over,” Adam murmured, his hand rubbing Kris’s back.

 

Kris didn’t know why _he_ was the one being comforted, not when Adam’s entire world was going to end. He took the comfort, though, knowing that he’d never feel Adam’s touch again. He took a deep breath and stood up, the warmth of Adam’s hand disappearing. He walked out of the bedroom without turning back.

 

***

 

**The Washington Post**

**Monday, July 7**

 

 

After spending the past three days locked in his apartment working on his article, Kris re-read the write up for the hundredth time and then emailed it, with all of his supporting evidence, including a copy of the audio file, to Special Agent DioGuardi and to Randy.  

 

He played several games of Solitaire listlessly on his computer.

 

“Kris, I need to see you right now,” Randy called from outside his office.

 

Kris walked to Randy’s office and closed the door.

 

“It’s a good story,” Randy said, sitting on the edge of his desk. “Probably one of the best things you’ve ever written.”

 

“Thanks, sir.”

 

“But I can’t run it.”

 

Kris stared at him. “What? Why not?”

 

“Because Special Agent Kara DioGuardi asked me to hold the story.”

 

“I don’t believe this. The Feds are going to tell us what we can and can’t publish now?”

 

Randy grinned, shaking his head at Kris’s outburst. “It’s called professional courtesy. Agent DioGuardi said that you were missing one very important fact—“

 

“Believe me, I have the research—“

 

“I know, hear me out, son,” Randy said, holding up his hand. “The Feds are going to hold a press conference in three hours outside the Mayor’s Office. They’ll give you the lead question and a follow up. Once you revise your write up based on the outcome of the press conference, I’ll run your story, Kris. Front page, above the line.”

 

Kris blinked at him, his mouth opening.

 

“You might want to head over there, get a good spot, right up front, kiddo.”

 

“Yeah—yeah, okay, yeah,” he said, barking out a laugh.

 

“Good work, Kris, that was some fine investigative journalism.”

 

“Thanks, sir. Thank you.”

 

 

***

 

**Office of the Mayor**

**1350 Pennsylvania Avenue**

 

 

Kris waited outside the building, right up front where they had roped off the section for the press. A podium was set up in front of the building, the Mayor’s security, Metro cops, and FBI Agents standing outside. Cameras were set up along the sidewalk; the street temporarily taken over by dozens of news vans.

 

“…heard that the Deputy Mayor was arrested early this morning…”

 

“…something about taking bribes…”

 

“…shit, not this again, you’d think they’d learn not to get caught…”

 

There was a smattering of cynical laughter around him, but Kris kept his eyes on the doors, waiting for the circus to begin.

 

The doors opened and a tall, distinguished looking man stepped out first, followed by Special Agent DioGuardi, and the Mayor. The other man nodded to the Mayor and took to the podium first.

 

“Thank you all for coming. My name is Patrick Nully, I’m the Special Prosecutor-in-Charge on the Jorge Campos case. With me are FBI Special Agent Kara GioGuardi and Mayor William Cross. We’ll make a brief statement and take only a few questions. Early this morning, federal agents with search warrants were dispatched to the office of the Deputy Mayor and to his home. They seized financial records, cell phones, computers, and other electronic devices. They also found a large suitcase that agents say that was packed with cash and bearer bonds. Mr. Campos was arrested on 16 federal corruption charges. We want to thank the Mayor and his office for their continued cooperation during the investigation. I’ll turn it over to the Special Agent-in-Charge.”

 

Kris made sure that his phone was recording each statement. He knew that he would have to make a few adjustments to his article, but none of this was surprising.

 

“Thank you, Mr. Nully,” Kara said, smiling politely from the podium. “The Federal Bureau of Investigations has been working with the Mayor’s Office the last few years, particularly when the former Deputy Mayor’s Chief-of-Staff, John Hester, was arrested for corruption charges. The Mayor’s role in this investigation was immensely important in that we were finally able to close the corruption loop that has impacted his office for some time.” She paused and turned to look at Kris, the edges of her smile deepening. “I would also like to thank Mr. Adam Lambert, of Lambert Enterprises, for providing the key evidence we needed in order to arrest the Deputy Mayor and fourteen other accomplices in the city’s largest corruption ring investigation.”

 

Kris nearly dropped his phone, inhaling deeply as he stared up at Kara.

 

“As we move to Grand Jury indictments, the Bureau will release the details of the investigation. Thank you.”

 

Kris swallowed hard, his ears buzzing intensely. His hands started sweating and he wiped his palm against his pant leg, keeping his eyes on Agent DioGuardi.

 

The Mayor took the podium next, his handsome face drawn and tired. “The last few years have hit us hard, and rightly so, I make no excuses for our culpability. But I want to assure the public that we have worked very closely with the city’s law enforcement agencies to ensure that our public service is transparent and above all, to regain your trust in us again. It is my belief that we’ve found all of the culprits involved in these criminal activities of political corruption, bribery, and others.” He paused, sighing deeply. “I am both saddened and angered because I have known Jorge Campos and his family for 15 years, but more than anything, my heart is broken for the City of Washington. This is not the city I know, serve, and love. These alleged behaviors are inexcusable and will not be tolerated. Thank you.”

 

“We’ll open for a few questions now,” Patrick Nully said, putting his hand consolingly on the Mayor’s shoulder.

 

The press finally woke up, shouting out and waving their hands to get Mr. Nully’s attention. Kris watched as Agent DioGuardi whispered something in Nully’s ear, motioning towards Kris.

 

“We’ll take the first question from _The Post_.”

 

He could literally feel the curiosity of the press as the news cameras turned to direct their focus on him.

 

Kris cleared his throat and pushed up the frames of his glasses. “Thank you. Kris Allen for _The Washington Post_. You mentioned that Adam Lambert provided the key evidence in your investigation. How long has he worked for the Bureau? And what was the impetus of his role in the investigation?”

 

“Agent DioGuardi?”

 

She took the podium again and stared at Kris. “Eighteen months ago, Mr. Lambert came to the FBI with evidence of corruption in the Office of Planning and Economic Development. Mr. Lambert is a commercial real estate developer in the city. Mr. Lambert worked undercover on behalf of the Bureau. We wouldn’t have been able to close this investigation without his assistance.”   

 

“Thank you,” Kris said, softly.

 

The rest of the press conference went by in a blur as Kris tried to wrap his mind around the fact that Adam wasn’t a criminal; that he was one of the good guys. He ached to call him to apologize, to tell him that he knew the truth now. He wanted to…

 

Oh, hell, he didn’t know what he wanted to do.

 

***

 

**The Peacock Café**

**Wednesday, July 9**

 

 

“Front page, above the fold. I know your mama is going to frame a copy of the article back home. Congratulations, Kristopher,” Katy said, smiling warmly at Kris. “I take it Randy finally took you off probation.”

 

He laughed, nodding. “Yeah, he moved me to the political beat, senior correspondent. And I’ve been getting a lot of new job offers though; on camera stuff from CBS, CNN, and Fox News.”

 

“You followed your instincts. For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you. Not because you got a front page story, but because you stayed true to your dreams and worked hard to get what you wanted.”

 

“Thanks, Katy, that means a lot to me.” He looked at her. “How is it at the office?”

 

“Well, the Mayor’s Office is going crazy because of this, trying to mitigate the scandal, but we’re doing okay.”

 

“Are you doing okay?”

 

She smiled at him, sweeping her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “For once, yes, Kristopher, I’m doing okay. I know I never told you, but I admire you for your integrity, even though it hurt me, but I can’t fault you for being honest with me.”

 

Kris looked at her, swallowing the lump in his throat. _They_ were going to be okay.

 

***

 

** EPILOGUE: THREE MONTHS LATER  **

**The Washington Post**

**Thursday, October 16**

 

 

“Hey, baby.”

 

Kris looked up and blinked, pen falling out of his mouth. “Adam?”

 

“It’s been awhile,” he said, casually.

 

He leaned back in his chair and stared up at him. “You look good.”

 

Adam scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I look gorgeous.”

 

Kris chuckled and looked him up and down. He’d never seen Adam dressed so casually in black jeans, a black tee-shirt, and a gray leather jacket. The jeans made his legs look long and were just tight enough to be eye catching.

 

“I thought I’d stop by and see if you’d like to grab some lunch?”

 

“Sure, yeah, let me just save this document,” he said, clicking the save icon and getting up from his chair. “So, how’ve you been?”

 

“Come on, let’s go outside and I’ll fill you in on what I can,” Adam said, looking around the bullpen, not missing that everyone had turned to watch him. “You can’t expect me to talk about it in a room full of reporters, do you?”

 

He wondered if this was going to be fodder for the office newsletter.

 

Kris walked with him outside. He bought two drinks and two hot dogs with the works from the food truck parked on the street, sitting down on the steps of the building next to Adam.

 

“Congratulations on your front page story,” Adam said, adding ketchup to his hotdog. “And for the promotion. I heard that you’re working on Capitol Hill now.”

 

“Thanks. Thanks, man, I appreciate it,” he said, smiling. “Politicians, power, money, corruption – what’s not to love?”

 

Adam chuckled, looking at him.

 

“So I don’t know what to say,” Kris began, taking a deep breath. “I tried to get in touch with you after the press conference but your assistant said that you weren’t available. I wasn’t sure if that meant you were busy with the investigation or if that was just your polite way of telling me to shove off.”

 

“It was because of the investigation. I’m the key witness for the District Attorney’s Office so they were keeping me tucked away until I finished my depositions and the indictments were handed out.”

 

“Well, I owe you an apology for accusing you of being a criminal,” Kris said, earnestly. “I’m sorry, Adam.”

 

“Thanks for that, but don’t be. You couldn’t have known.”

 

“I’m just glad that you’re innocent.”

 

Adam grinned, chewing slowly. He swallowed and took a sip of his soda. “Not _that_ innocent.”

 

Kris laughed, throwing back his head. “How about an on-the-record interview, when all of this is over?”

 

“How about a date?”

 

He smiled and looked over at Adam. “A date, huh?”

 

“A real date this time.”

 

“You’re on,” Kris said, nodding happily. He took a deep breath and gazed out at the busy lunch time DC traffic. “So are you going to build anything on the Shaw property?”

 

“I hadn’t intended to; I only put the bid in because of the FBI sting. It’s a neighborhood property and I build commercial businesses. But during the investigation and everything that’s happened, I think I’ll work with the city and the neighborhood to build affordable apartments and bring in businesses that will benefit the Shaw neighborhood.”

 

“Yeah, that’s really awesome, Adam. Really,” he said, smiling at him, feeling a deep sense of pride. “I always knew that you were a good man. I just couldn’t figure out how to deal with the idea that you might be doing something shady, you know?”

 

Adam chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you think so.”

 

“Dude, I know so,” he insisted, looking at him. “I’m a good judge of character.”

 

“I have something for you – courtesy of the FBI,” Adam said, pulling out a CD case from inside his jacket.

 

Kris flipped it over; there was no label on the disk. “What is it?”

 

Adam smiled. “It’s the audio from that night at my place. The Feds wired my private residence, knowing that Campos and Gokey would come over to talk about the bribe. It seems that they just kept the recording going.”

 

Kris’s eyes widened, his fingers clutching the case. He blushed hard, feeling his face heat up. “You mean – _that_ night? That night we…that I…that I said all those things… _ohhhh_ …ohmygod. We have to destroy this audio!”

 

That would explain the _looks_ that Agent DioGuardi gave him.

 

He covered his head with his hands as Adam chuckled.

 

“We should post it online and charge a fee for downloads, we’d make a fortune. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard and I was there,” Adam whispered against Kris’s ear, nipping the top with his teeth, causing him to shiver.

 

Adam wrapped his hand behind Kris’s neck and drew him up for a kiss.

 

“Bumping into you that night in the CVS was the best thing to ever happen to me,” Adam said, stroking his finger across Kris’s cheek. “I don’t regret a single thing except not being able to tell you the truth. I wanted to tell you, so many times, but I knew I couldn’t. Not yet. So I was hoping that you’d give me – _us_ – a second chance.”

 

“Clean slate?”

 

Adam released him and sat back, holding out his hand. His blue eyes were lit up with happiness, a wide smile on his face. “I’m Adam Lambert.”

 

Kris grinned, playing along. He shook Adam’s hand firmly. “Kris Allen. But my close friends call me Kristopher.”

 

“It’s nice to meet you. Kristopher.”

 

 

 

 

The End.

 

 

 

 


End file.
